The Amnesia Diary
by girl.with.many.faces
Summary: When Harry woke up, he couldn't remember anything. Not even his own name. Crossing spirits. That's what it was called when a fay and a human collided. There's no medical cure, but if the victim doesn't interact with those he once knew, he may end up forgetting them for good. Trying to keep his condition a secret, Harry has to unravel his past. A different kind of OP Harry.
1. Chapter 1

"Thump!" he saw something briefly, a boy with silver hair and glowing yellow eyes before the world had gone black.

He woke up in a small bedroom on a lumpy mattress. A slightly plump boy with blond hair was sitting on a chair by his bed.

"You're up." He looked so relieved that he couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Thankfully, the boy took it upon himself to explain.

"We were attacked in the alley by those black-cloaked things." The boy explained, seeing his blank expression, however, he decided to continue, "You cast this spell. It was this silver thing…"

"A patronus." How did he know that? He blinked a moment in confusion. Those things he was describing must have been dementors then. He knew something was wrong though, for starters, he didn't know this boy.

"I saw it too." His attention snapped over to a strange…being that was floating by the boy. He had silver hair and yellow eyes, and he appeared to be younger than the two of them.

"Don't speak!" the being said, it's pointed ears wiggling slightly, "No one else can see me…other than you. This boy is your cousin, just pretend you remember for now, I'll explain when he's gone."

"I remember." He lied, "It's coming back to me…are you alright?"  
"Am I alright?" his cousin looked surprised, "What about you? You're the one that passed out after saving me…"  
"The patronus is a really powerful spell." He didn't need to lie about that, "It takes a lot of energy to cast. Students aren't really supposed to know how to even do it, or cast it. Guess there's a reason for that, huh?" He smiled teasingly, trying to pretend nothing was wrong, but his cousin was clearly rattled.

"I'll say…" he went silent a moment, "We were lucky I guess…mom and dad aren't home just…I won't tell them, I'll keep quiet. You know how they are about anything…unnatural."

He tried not to look confused, but his confusion must have shown anyways.

"You saved my life so…so I owe you." His cousin said, "Um…sorry." He said quickly, then reached for the bedside table and handed him three letters, "These came for you by owl." He explained, "I haven't opened them…"

"Thank you…" he told his cousin, then realized that it sounded like he was sticking his neck out for him, "This means a lot, thanks."  
His cousin gave a nod, then got up awkwardly,

"I'll just leave now…Mom and dad will be here in a bit."

"Thanks." He said again with a weak smile, his cousin left his room with a slight nod, leaving him alone with the strange being with silver hair. He was dressed similarly to a court jester or something of the like.

"What's going on?" he asked the boy-like being, "Why don't I remember anything?"

The boy looked at him awkwardly,

"To start off, I'm Meli, one of the fay." He explained, "I'm a spirit being, so…most people can't actually see me. I got into an accident and was flung through your body. Our souls got crossed somehow, that's why you can see me but…the collision accidentally…"

"Erased my memories?" he guessed.

"Basically." Meli said, "Thought not from your mind, from your soul."

"My soul…like how dementors take memories, sort of?" he guessed vaguely.

"Well, I wouldn't put it like that…" Meli was obviously uncomfortable with the comparison, "But, yeah. But, you need to be careful, if you go to the hospital or something then you might regress, since it's not an ailment of the mind, if you're isolated, you'll keep forgetting things, until you even forget to breathe. The more you spend time around people you know, the better." He said factually, "So it would be best not telling anyone about your condition."

"What do I do then?" he asked Meli, biting his lower lip uncertainly, "I don't even remember my name, or my cousin's name…"

The fay looked a bit thoughtful,

"Maybe try those letters?" he suggested, "They might have your name mentioned in them."

His eyes widened and he gave a nod, looking down at the envelope.

_Mr. H. Potter_

_No. 4 Private Drive_

_Little Whining_

_Surrey_

"I guess my last name is 'Potter.'" He commented absently, wondering what the 'H' could stand for.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that you performed the Patronus Charm at twenty-three minutes past nine this evening in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a Muggle…_

"Right," he thought to himself, "That's illegal…But my cousin said I saved his life, right?" he looked over at Meli who gave a nod.

"When I collided with you there were two dementors there, you warded them off just in time. Nice patronus, by the way."

"Patronus…" He trailed off.

"It was a stag, if that helps." Meli offered.

He gave a nod,

"I think that does, thanks." He then opened up the next letter, it was from someone called Arthur Weasley.

"Harry," he said, "My name's Harry Potter."

He wondered if he might have a middle name to go along with that. He looked at the red envelope which was smoking now,

"It's a howler." He realized, which really wasn't good. But why send him a howler, "I might as well open it. My cousin seemed to hint that whoever I live with doesn't like me, I think they must be my aunt and uncle if I'm living with my cousin." Which meant his parents were dead. His heart felt heavy at that realization. He opened it up and an old sounding, but loud voice burst out from the howler, furious for some reason or another. It was explicit instructions to a woman named Petunia Dursley about how she had made a pact by taking Harry into her home on Private Drive. From it's contents, Harry was able to learn that his aunt's name was Petunia Dursley and his uncle's name was Vernon Dursley.

Harry licked his lips, not sure he quite liked the sound of the whole thing. At least he had a better understanding of the situation now at his 'home' if it could even be called that.

He took a shaky breath as the letter disintegrated.

"Well, that was loud." Meli said, crinkling his nose, hands still over his ears.

"Yeah…" Harry said, then started looking around. There was a snowy owl in his room in a cage. She was looking at him curiously as he riffled through his things.

"What are you looking for?" Meli asked him.

"Notes, books, anything that might help me." He said looking through some discarded papers and a trunk full of school equipment.

"It's all school work." He ran a hand through his hair.

"Maybe you should start writing stuff down now." Meli suggested, "It might help."  
Harry gave a nod,

"There's an empty notebook in here…" he opened it up and saw a sticky note glued to the inside cover.

_Hey, Harry,_

_I know what you're thinking, "a notebook for my birthday?" but it does help to remember homework assignments and stuff. Or maybe it will help you sort through your thoughts. It might help you deal with what happened to Cedric if you write it down._

_Sorry I haven't been writing to you much, but please don't be too mad with me._

_Hermione_

"Hermione." He looked at the name curiously.

Meli floated over, looking over his shoulder,

"A friend, maybe?" he guessed, then gained a mischievous air about him, "Or maybe a girlfriend?"

Harry blushed a bit at this, wondering if he was in a romantic relationship with anyone. He rather hoped not. He couldn't imagine how awful that would be to have someone you love say they didn't know you.

"Okay," He thought, "So, I have a friend named Hermione, that's…that's something, right?" he wasn't really talking to Meli though.

He took a deep breath and searched the small desk at the side. He found a pen and started writing things down.

_August 2__nd__,_

_Dementor attack on Private Drive. I woke up in my room with my cousin looking over me. I don't remember anything, but Meli says I managed to cast a patronus charm that took the form of a stag._

He thought about this a moment, recalling all he'd learned.

_There were three letters that came for me. One in the mail which said that I have a hearing for underage magic. Meli says I should be okay since we were being attacked by dementors. I guess self-defence still applies in the magical world, thankfully. One of the other letters was from someone called Arthur Weasley telling me to stay put at my home, which is apparently Number 4 Private Drive. It doesn't really feel like home though. My cousin, who's name I still can't remember hinted that my aunt and uncle don't like me._

_I was looking through my things and found this book from someone called Hermione. She sounded like a nice person in her note._

He paused again, then wrote,

_Meli says that if I end up in hospital, I'll regress until I even forget to breathe. It's best if I just continue on and interact with people I know. I'm worried about being isolated in this house though, if I am, will I start regressing? Should I write to this Hermione to see if she can offer any advice?_

_I have a bit of a fear of being taken advantage of due to my condition. I was just attacked by dementors, after all, aren't those supposed to be under Ministry control? Not to mention, this is a very normal looking neighbourhood, I doubt wizards would live in a place like this, and I certainly wouldn't be surprised if I was the only one in this area._

As he wrote, his thoughts seemed to be heading in a peculiar direction, he looked up at Meli,

"Hey, Meli, this is a very muggle area, right?" Harry asked the fay spirit, "I mean, it's weird that dementors would be here, right?"

"Yeah…" Meli looked thoughtful, "Come to think of it, don't the wizards keep a strict leash on dementors? And this is a very non-magical area…could it be…is someone after you, Harry?"

Harry looked down at the journal,

"I thought the same thing." He said quietly.

"Don't worry, Harry." Meli said quickly, "If anything happens, I'll protect you."

Harry looked up from his journal and up at Meli,

"You don't owe me anything, Meli." He said quickly, "I mean…" he trailed off, "It might just be an accident."  
The snowy owl in her cage barked, as though warning him. Meli looked over at the owl,

"That's a pretty owl." He said, then looked at Harry, "You think you remember her name?"

Harry looked at the owl, then back at Meli. He shook his head,

"Sorry." He said.

The snowy owl gave a sad bark and Harry had a strange feeling of nostalgia. Could she understand them? He wondered to himself.

"I'm sorry." He told the owl, "I'll try to remember you soon, I promise."  
The owl barked again, and then fluttered her wings.

"You want out?" Harry guessed, then got up from his spot on the bed and made his way over to her cage. He unhooked the latch of the door and opened it up wide then made his way to the window, ready to open it up, only for the snowy to completely ignore it and fly towards his trunk. She started scratching at it. Curiously, he made his way over to some of the items he'd thrown out in his haste to find something, anything that might help him jog his memory.

"A book?" he wondered, noticing she was standing on what appeared to be a book on magical history.

The owl seemed to nod her head. Harry made his way over to the book carefully as the owl tried to open it up. He knelt down on the ground then watched as she stopped on a particular page. With her talon she pointed to a phrase.

Harry gave her an odd look, but looked down at the sentence, wondering if maybe she could read it. It was an odd thought. He supposed that owls must know an address or name from what was written on a letter, so…maybe they could read?

"_Of all the warriors in all the land, not one could match the grace or greatness of Hedwig…"_

He was interrupted when the owl barked. Harry stopped, looking up abruptly, then back down at the sentence, wondering what she was trying to say.

"Maybe that's her name?" Meli suggested, "Hedwig's a good name for an owl."

"Hedwig…" Harry repeated, only for the owl to bark again. He looked back up at her, "Is that your name? Hedwig?"  
The snowy owl barked again and Harry smiled,

"You're really smart, aren't you?"  
The owl seemed to lift her head, as though to say, 'why of course I am.' She fluttered her wings and flew back into her cage, but Harry decided to leave the door open for now. It didn't quite seem right keeping it closed.

"Thank you for telling me." Harry said quietly, "I swear I'll remember you soon."

The snowy owl barked, as though encouraging him and Harry smiled in return, looking back at his book. He went back to his diary and wrote what he'd just discovered.

Just then, he heard two people stepping on the steps of the front door. The door opened and he heard a woman's voice announce,

"Dudley, we're home!"

"Dudley…" Harry repeated quietly, then remembered his cousin was there too somewhere. He heard a door open somewhere down the hall and the heavy footsteps of his cousin, going to greet his parents.

"Alright," he said out loud, though still quiet, "So, my cousin's name is Dudley…"  
He quickly wrote it down in the diary in case he forgot again. He made a note of how they only called Dudley and not him.

"Boy!" a gruff, male voice came from the bottom of the stairs, "Make us some hot chocolate and popcorn!"  
Harry stiffened, was he calling on him?

"You should go downstairs anyways." Meli said awkwardly, he obviously didn't like the way Harry had been called either, but even a negative interaction was still an interaction, right?

"Coming!" Harry called down, hoping that he really was calling him and not some other person who might be in the house he hadn't met yet.

He opened the door of his room into a hallway, then turned his head, looking down at a flight of stairs. He hurried down them into another hall, hearing movement and voices in what looked like a living room. But the archway next to it led into the kitchen. His relatives were sitting down on a couch watching the tele, leaving him to explore the kitchen on his own.

"Popcorn and hot chocolate, right?" Meli said, then started looking through the cupboards. He didn't open them up, but rather, allowed his head to faze through the doors to see what was inside.

"This is the mugs." Meli pointed and Harry quickly opened up the cupboard Meli had pointed to as the small fay spirit explored the cupboards.

He couldn't even remember where everything was, Harry thought, he was like a stranger in this house…

"I think this one holds the hot chocolate and pop corn cornels." Meli pointed hesitantly, "But I'll keep looking just in case."

Harry gave a nod as he set out the mugs and then went to the fridge and poured out the milk. Three cups. He didn't really feel like getting any for himself right now.

He looked at the popcorn and read the instructions quickly, before getting out a pan and heating it, pouring in a thin layer of cornels. Meli pointed out a few things of note after popping his head into some of the cupboards. Harry made a note to look over his homework and textbooks. If he'd already forgotten where food and cutlery was, then he probably didn't remember a lot of stuff he'd learned in school.

The hot chocolate finished first, and Harry searched through some of the drawers before he found the spoons. He mixed in the hot chocolate mix and set them on a tray. The popcorn hadn't started popping yet, so he had a bit of time. He decided to take in the hot chocolate first, walking steadily into the living room and focusing on balancing the mugs.

He let out a small yelp as he tripped over something and fell to the ground. He bit his tongue when he felt the hot chocolate scorch his skin.

"That jerk!" Meli shouted angrily, "He tripped you!"  
Harry turned around to see that the big man who was probably his uncle, had stuck out his foot, a smirk on his face. His cousin had winced.

"Boy! Clean this up!" A horse faced woman who he assumed was his aunt said.

The fact that Dudley was looking at him worriedly, but hadn't said anything proved to him that this was normal.

"Alright." He said, slowly getting up and gathering up the shards of broken glass from one of the cups, only one had broken, thankfully, while the others remained in tact.

He returned to the kitchen and threw out the broken pieces. His skin still hurt, but the scolding hot chocolate had cooled down relatively quick.

Numbly, he started his hot chocolate preparation again before getting a dish cloth and making his way back to the living room to clean up the spilled liquid. After he was done, he returned to the kitchen to hear the popcorn beginning to pop. The microwave beeped and he took out the mugs of hot milk before putting in the mix again.

This time, he waited for the popcorn to finish before putting it in a bowl and serving that first. He returned to the living room with the bowl.

"Boy." His uncle said gruffly, "What happened to your glasses?"  
Harry blinked,

"Glasses?" he nearly whispered.

"There were glasses on your bedside table." Meli offered, "Maybe you usually wear them?"

Harry blinked, his vision seemed fine. Was it some sort of weird effect from the dementors? He realized his uncle was waiting for an answer,

"My friend bought me contacts…as a Christmas present." It seemed like a good lie, and they seemed to buy it.

His uncle snorted with disgust, while his aunt crinkled her nose as though smelling something sour. Harry turned without a word and went to bring the hot chocolate to his relatives, he set the tray down on the coffee table. He'd been careful to watch for his uncle's foot this time, but the man hadn't tried pulling the same stunt as before, it seemed.

Harry didn't want to stay there, even if he was invited by some off chance. He turned around and left the room swiftly, going upstairs and back to his room.

"Harry…" Meli said worriedly.

"Why do they hate me?" Harry wondered, feeling unusually weak. He'd already felt vulnerable without his memories, but to learn that he was hated like that…it hurt a lot.

Meli didn't say anything and Hedwig made a sad sound, that Harry figured was supposed to be comforting.


	2. Chapter 2

**As you may have figured out, this is based off the Amnesia game. I didn't really like the anime, but I thought it might be interesting to have an OP Harry who doesn't realize he's OP. Or maybe a Harry Potter who has already done all the Super-Harry training without even realizing it. There's going to be a few twists, so bear with me.**

**I do no own Harry Potter. That privilege belongs to J.K. Rowling**

Harry woke up the next morning to the sound of tapping at his window. He got up, blinking the sleep from his eyes to see an owl with a paper in it's claws.

He opened it up, letting the owl in. It dropped off the paper but stuck around.

"It probably wants a tip." Meli realized.

Harry went back to his trunk,

"I think I saw a bag with some money in here…" Sure enough, there was a pouch with a few galleons, some sickles and a knut inside. He gave the owl a knut, it seemed satisfied with the tip, choosing to fly off right away.

Harry opened it up, it was titled _The Daily Prophet_. The name sounded familiar, but he didn't really remember it all that well…he started scanning over the news and froze.

"Harry?" Meli asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Harry had let him sleep with him in his bed, he noticed Harry's pale face and wide eyes and looked over at the paper.

"It says…it says I'm crazy." Harry looked at the paper wide-eyed, "It says…" he swallowed, "A boy named Cedric Diggory died during the Triwizard Tournament, that the two of us disappeared…but he died for some reason and I said…I said someone called you-know-who was back and they didn't believe me." He looked at Meli.

Was he crazy? He couldn't remember anything, after all.

"You don't seem crazy." Meli said thoughtfully, "Not that we know each other all that well." He paused, "Do you think that's why you were attacked by those dementors?"  
Harry thought on this, it certainly seemed possible. But what on earth was going on?

There was a knock on his door, then a high-pitched voice rang,

"Get up!"

It was his aunt. Harry swallowed hard realizing that this was going to be a long day.

Life with the Dursleys, Harry discovered, was not at all pleasant. He was proud to note that he did remember a few things here and there, though they weren't particularly good things. Such as the fact that he had once slept in a cupboard under the stairs. It had only been a brief memory, but it was enough for Harry to feel warier around his relatives. His glasses, he found, made no difference.

He didn't understand it, but the glasses by his bed had no prescription in them. They were just glass. He wrote this discovery down in his notebook, marking a star beside it as something that he ought to look into further. His cousin didn't seem too bad though. Sure, he was a bit spoiled, but he didn't treat Harry all that horribly, not like Vernon and Petunia whose last name he still couldn't remember.

He'd filled up six pages of his journal with new discoveries about his life with the Dursleys, most of them small discoveries, but he often went back to look at them every day, as though reviewing for a test. He read through a few chapters of his textbooks and found, to his horror that he had forgotten a horrible amount of magical knowledge. When he could, he read through his text books as much as he could, hoping that maybe some of it would come back to him.

But he didn't get a whole lot of time to himself either, opting to either wander the neighbourhood or do chores for his aunt, knowing that he had to keep interacting with people if he ever hoped to regain his memories. His aunt didn't like it when he wasn't wearing glasses and threatened to raid his room for his contacts if he didn't do as he was told. They were round glasses that sat on his nose nicely. But why would he wear them if he didn't need them?

On the fourth night, the Dursleys went out to attend some sort of award presentation for best-kept lawn in London, or something like that, leaving him alone for the night. He mostly spent it studying through his books, practicing wand movements with his pencil and writing down a few ideas absently for a potions essay that had apparently been assigned according to a planner he'd found in his trunk.

His head jerked at the sound of a crash from downstairs and unfamiliar murmurs.

"Someone's downstairs." He whispered worriedly.

He grabbed his wand, not sure he remembered all the spells he should but…but he could still put up a fight.

"I'll protect you, Harry." Meli told him firmly, "Have you ever used shamanic magic before?"

"Shamanic magic?" Harry whispered, unfamiliar with the term.

Meli nodded,

"It's a bit like…possession. But you can break the link whenever you need to. If you practice, you should be able to use my powers on your own."  
Harry swallowed, not really liking the feeling of not being in control…but he didn't really have much of a choice, if this got bad…Meli probably had a better chance of knowing what to do than he did. He gave a nod,

"Alright." He grabbed his wand off his desk and got up cautiously, then opened the door gently.

If he was quiet enough, he might be able to catch them by surprise. He didn't turn on a light, and he made certain not to cast Lumos in case he cave away his location.

Heart in his throat, he crept into the kitchen. The silhouette of eight figures could be seen from the light cast from the stars through the glass doors in the kitchen.

They didn't make a move to do anything and none of them had their wands out, though some were wearing robes, so he knew they must be wizards.

"Harry? It's me."  
Harry blinked, eyes focusing on the man who had spoken. He moved to the side and turned on the light in the kitchen.

They all squinted as their eyes adjusted to the new lighting. The man who'd spoken had sandy hair, greying, and green eyes with a scruffy sort of appearance. What caught his attention momentarily, was a man that was horribly scarred, with a peg leg and an unnerving, revolving eyes that scanned him over and seemed to almost x-ray him.

Harry lowered his wand, sensing no danger and confident that if there was any danger, that Meli would intervene.

"Oh." Harry said, not really sure how he was supposed to react, "What…are you doing here…exactly?"

Was he supposed to know these people? The sandy haired man spoke with an air of familiarity, should he know him? Seeing his confused gaze, but misinterpreting it, the man proceeded to introduce him to people…he supposed he was supposed to me unfamiliar with. This was going to be difficult keeping it all straight in his head.

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" the heavily scarred man ordered, causing him to wince slightly at the use of the word 'boy.' It just reminded him too much of the fat walrus who Harry supposed was is uncle. But no one noticed his reaction, or if they did, they just passed if off as Harry still being dazed from his discovery of the party of people in the kitchen.

"What if it had ignited?" the man continued, "Better wizards than you have lost their buttocks, you know?"

No, Harry didn't know, and he took a wild guess that he probably wasn't supposed to either.

"Who do you know that lost their buttocks?" a violet haired witch asked, half amused and half curious.

Tonks, Harry recalled her name, he had a feeling that name would stick, though from the way she'd been introduced, he had a feeling they didn't know each other.

"Never you mind that." The man said gruffly, "Elementary wand safely, no one bothers with it anymore…"

Harry got the sense he was supposed to know this man, just like he was supposed to know the scruffy looking man in rather warn robes…be he was coming up blank.

The man with the scars started going over a flight plan and Harry realized they were taking him somewhere. They weren't expecting any protests either, which meant that he was supposed to know them, and probably know where they were going to.

"You should go with them." Meli told Harry seriously, "I think it's better than staying here. At least this way you won't have to serve those…people." He crinkled his nose, "And they seem pretty friendly."

It was true, Harry observed. They seemed to have his best interests at heart, and this might have something to do with his hearing later.

The sandy haired man caught his eye,

"Grab all your things, because we won't be returning." He warned.

Harry gave a nod, then hurried off to his room to pack. He put all his books together into his trunk and gathered his clothes, which, had mostly been packed anyways.

This really wasn't his home, Harry thought. It had seemed odd to him from the start, how he'd kept all his things packed even though it should have been well into the holidays, and he hadn't made a move to change that either.

There had been a broom in his trunk, Harry recalled. And they were planning on leaving via broom. He'd best have that ready.

Pulling it out of his trunk, he realized it was an expensive model. None of his other belongings were that nice. He ran a hand over the broom and a feeling of nostalgia came over him, but there was no memory to accompany it. Still…he felt like the broom was special to him for some reason.

"Hedwig," Harry told the snowy owl, who was looking at him questioningly, "Some people have arrived, I know I'm supposed to know two of them…"  
Hedwig let out a sad bark.

"I'm going to bring you down with my stuff, okay? If they're dangerous could you just…let me know?" he asked her.

Hedwig gave a determined nod and Harry gave her a smile,

"Thanks, girl. I'm sorry I have to ask this. I swear I'll remember eventually…I already have a memory of you." He said proudly.

He'd remembered her pecking his head for saying that maybe he ought to ask the Weasley twins if they might have a product for dying owl feathers green. Though he still had no idea who the Weasley twins were. Maybe they were related to Arthur Weasley? Or maybe Arthur Weasley was one of these 'Weasley Twins.'

Harry made his way back downstairs after a moment to think on this new door, behind which were people he apparently knew, but didn't. A whole other part of his life, like a chunk from a puzzle. He knew he needed to figure it out, how it all fit together, and he knew he needed these mysterious, missing pieces to do it.

"A clear night tonight." The scarred man said, looking up at the night sky, "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover…right, you," he looked at Harry, "We're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you, keep close on her tail, Lupin will cover you from behind." Harry's eyes traveled towards the sandy haired man. He must be Lupin, Harry deduced, but that sounded more like a last name, and Lupin was familiar with him. If he referred to the man as 'Lupin' he might get suspicious. He looked back at Moody who continued on his explanation,

"I'm going behind you, the rest will circle. We don't break rank for anything, got me? If one of us is killed –"

"Is that likely?" Harry asked, wondering now what exactly they were doing.

"It sounds like you really are in danger." Meli observed.

The scarred man seemed to ignore him,

"– The others keep flying. Don't stop. Don't break rank. If they take out all of us, and you survive, Harry, the rear guards are standing by to take over. Keep flying east and they'll join you."  
"Harry, I don't think you're crazy." Meli told him, recalling his fears from before.

But for the first time, Harry really wished he was. He zoned out a moment, before the sight of red sparks in the sky, like fireworks, lit up the night.

"That's our signal, mount your brooms!" Lupin ordered.

Harry got on his broom, he could feel slight vibrations in his grip, reflecting his own worries, and his eagerness to be in the sky. Another wave of nostalgia hit and he was suddenly brought back to some other place.

He was flying on a broom in stormy whether. It was raining and the wind and lightning was wild. Then a coldness enveloped him and he was immediately brought back.

"You alright, Harry?"

Harry looked over at Lupin who was the one that had spoken, he wasn't the only one looking on in concern.

"Um, yes, sorry." He shook his head, "I just…it feels good to be back on a broom is all." He lied and Lupin offered him an odd look. He looked like he was about to say something when another shot of sparks went off.

"That's the second signal, let's go!" he ordered as green sparks met the remaining red.

Harry pushed off into the sky, closing his eyes momentarily as the wind gently caressed his face. He opened his eyes again, however and looked on at Tonks who was in front of him. He tilted his head to the side to see Meli flying by his side.

"You looked like you remembered something." He offered Harry who gave a slight nod.

Had those been dementors? He wondered to himself, thinking back to that cold feeling. It was certainly reminiscent to the night he'd lost his memories…

They weren't very talkative, Harry noted, but that was fine with him, even if it was a little uncomfortable. If any of them brought something up about his past, he wasn't really sure what he would say. So far, he had gotten by through observation, but he realized, it would probably be a lot more difficult if he was forced to interact with people that knew him before he lost his memories.

They made a few loops, and Harry was certain they were not heading in a straight direction and that they were taking some sort of detour. Harry wasn't sure if he appreciated the time he had to think about his future interactions or if it was more of a dreadful build-up.

They did land eventually in a run-down neighbourhood. Most of the houses were boarded up with broken windows and cracking exteriors.

"Read this." The scarred man said gruffly, showing Harry a piece of parchment, "But don't say it out loud."

Harry looked it over.

_The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place_

He looked up at the scarred man with confusion, but shut his mouth quickly, realizing he hadn't wanted him to reveal this location out loud for some reason.

Number twelve? He wondered to himself, he couldn't see a number twelve…and then it appeared. The houses beside it parted, revealing a new building…or rather, an old one. It didn't really stand out from the rest of the neighbourhood in anyways, looking much the same as the houses it sat between.

Harry bit his lower lip. A fidelius? He wondered. He'd read about it briefly in his charms textbook, but it didn't explain how to cast it or anything. It was a very advanced protection spell. But why use such an advanced ward?

The order members all entered forth, with Harry and Lupin staying behind.

"Are you going to go in?" Lupin asked him slowly.

"I…guess." Harry said, looking at the door a moment longer before stepping forwards, only for Lupin to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry…is everything alright?" He asked him with concern, "You know you can come to me if you need to, right?"  
Harry was silent a while, trying to come up with an appropriate response, before Lupin let out a sigh,

"Are you mad? I know you weren't able to contact anyone this summer, Harry, but it was for your own good."  
Harry looked up at him sharply, but still stayed silent. It was a good excuse.

"I'm upset." He decided, "But…I mostly just have a lot on my mind, is all. Thanks for the offer…I might take you up on it." He wasn't sure he would, but it seemed to satisfy Lupin who let go of his shoulder and allowed him to enter the house.

When he opened the door, he was immediately pulled into a hug by a slightly plump, red-headed woman. He tensed momentarily, but returned it quickly, in the hopes that she hadn't noticed. How was he supposed to react to this woman? Who was she? Already he felt rather at a loss.

Harry pulled away first after she finally seemed to lessen her hold on him.

"Hi." He said sheepishly.

"Oh, Harry! How was your flight? Are you alright? The Dursleys didn't treat you too badly, did they?" she immediately questioned.

Dursley, was that the elusive last name of his relatives? Harry wondered to himself.

"It was alright." Harry decided after a moment's thought, "The flight was fine, it's a nice night…a bit tense though." He decided to say, realizing he probably would have found it more tense had he had the means to strike up a conversation without being suspicious.

"Oh, Remus, there's a meeting in the hall for all the guards." She stopped Harry from going, "Harry, dear, it's members only." She said with a slight apologetic look on her face, "Ron and Hermione are upstairs."  
Harry drew a sharp breath, barely noticeable at the mention of Hermione's name. She was the girl that had given him the journal, he recalled.

"Thank you." He told her in a somewhat soft voice, though he wondered why Hermione was here and why this Ron person was with her. They were probably friends, right? This woman seemed to think they were his friends. He wanted to meet them, curious as to what they were like. He'd been thinking on Hermione's name for a while now, he secretly felt a connection to the name, because this person, whoever she was had helped him in a funny way by giving him the book in the first place.

He promised himself that he'd thank her, even if she didn't know how grateful he was for the book yet.

As he made his way to the top of the stairs, he could hear voices coming from behind one of the doors. Curiously, he opened it up. A girl with bushy brown hair and a boy with bright red hair, much like the woman's from downstairs. Were these Ron and Hermione? Recognition certainly seemed to flash across their faces.

"Harry!" the bushy haired girl said, though she looked worried as she got up, "How are you? Are you alright? The Dursleys didn't treat you too badly, did they?"

Harry felt a small pang in his heart. It hurt that they knew about his treatment at his relatives, or, at least they knew he wasn't happy there.

"What happened to your hands?" the red head wondered.

The brown-haired girl looked down to see that his hands were covered with Band-Aids, and not all that well either as she could see some cuts that weren't covered up.

Maybe they didn't know, Harry thought hopefully. They looked at him expectantly.

Should he lie? He'd gotten those wounds when his uncle had pushed down. The vase in his hands he'd planned on cleaning had shattered in his grasp as he'd hit the floor. It had taken him forever to pull out the glass shards. That had been his last blunder though. He hadn't tripped again after that, having learned his lesson to be wary around his uncle and to be ready to dodge whatever he had to throw at him.

"I tripped and broke a vase." Harry decided to lie.

The red head seemed to accept the lie, but the bushy haired girl frowned at him suspiciously. Had he said something wrong? He wondered. Her frown disappeared after a moment. Harry decided to ask them,  
"So, what's happening exactly?" he decided to leave it up to them how they interpret that particular question. He needed all the information he could get.

"Well," Hermione began, "This is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Ron and I have been staying here a while."

So, he was Ron, Harry thought, looking briefly at the red head. He'd gotten it right, then.

"The Order of the Phoenix was created by Dumbledore during the first war." Hermione explained when she saw Harry's confused look, though she'd misinterpreted it, "To fight Voldemort."  
Voldemort? Harry thought, was that 'you-know-who'? From the papers? He'd keep an open mind for now, at least for a while. He didn't want to accidentally jump to the wrong conclusion and say something that might blow his cover.

Hadn't there been something about a war recently? Harry recalled his magical history textbook. He had only skimmed that part, but it seemed rather important. He made a silent vow to look at his textbook later when he had the chance.

It occurred to Harry then that he might not have ever been to this place before he got his amnesia.

"Are you angry?" Hermione asked meekly.

He winced, not liking how…scared she sounded at the idea of him being angry. Was he a bad person? Did he really lash out at her and Ron when he got angry? He shook his head before he could really think through his answer.

"I'm a bit frustrated," Harry began when he saw their doubtful looks, "But…I'm not really angry."

Everyone thought he should be angry, Harry realized. Lupin had said that no one had contacted him over the summer while he was at the Dursleys. His heart felt a bit heavy at that. It must have sucked being alone with _them_ for so long…He could barely tolerate being with his relatives for a few days, let alone a month. He probably would be angry if he actually remembered.

"Wizards…most wizards," Harry corrected, "Don't know how to intercept muggle mail or phone calls though. I only just thought of it myself, but I guess we could have done that."  
Hermione and Ron both winced, the former looking as though she were hitting herself for not realizing something so simple sooner.

"But…since I only just realized that, it seems stupid to put all that on you…so I won't." Harry decided, it seemed irrational. Hermione looked rather surprised at his response, but Harry continued, "Besides, I did get a note from Hermione."  
"You did?" Ron looked at the bushy haired girl, confirming once and for all to Harry that she was Hermione. The girl in question looked rather lost.

"In the book she got me." Harry offered.

Realization dawned on her,

"Oh, you read it." She realized, "Well, I don't mean the book, obviously, since it's a notebook. But you read my note."  
Harry gave a nod,

"Yeah, I did. Thank you for the present. I've been writing in it quite a bit actually." He paused at Hermione's surprised look. Had she thought he wouldn't use it? He wondered, then offered her a slight smile, "Maybe I'll let you read it one day."  
And then maybe he could thank her properly, because from her expression, she had no idea just how important that diary was to him.

"Thank you for the gift." Harry decided to say.

"Um, well, you're welcome." Hermione said, obviously still surprised by the unexpected behaviour.

Deciding it was about time to change the subject, Harry took a moment to think on a safe subject,

"You guys finish your homework?"

"Not yet." Hermione shook her head, once again looking somewhat surprised by the topic of conversation.

Had he been bad with homework before? Harry wondered to himself.

"I've done some of it though, you?" Hermione asked him.

"I'm about half-way done." Harry nodded, thinking back to his work. It had been slow going, since he was trying to recall what exactly he'd learned in those previous years as well. He'd been driven by a sinking feeling that he'd be horribly behind if he didn't revise all his books and notes. He seemed to have all his books from first through fourth year, though he seemed to be missing his second-year Defense Against the Dark Arts books for some reason. His notes from that year consisted of a few jabs at their teacher in the corner.

Lockheart had sounded like a pompous idiot from what little he was able to pick up from his writing.

"I finished off the potions essay and the herbology questions easily enough." Harry said out loud, "I was thinking about moving on to defense next…"  
Ron was giving him an incredulous look,

"Bloody hell! You're turning into Hermione!"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, "There's nothing wrong with Harry wanting to put a little more effort into his work. It is our OWL year, after all."  
Well, that seemed to be as good an excuse as any, Harry thought, but mostly remained silent. Hermione had a glimmer of worry in her eye that Harry nearly missed though, and he realized it might not be enough to just go along with the story she had come up with.

"I got bored at the Dursleys," he said, "And I ended up going through one of my old defense books. I was kind of caught off guard by how much I forgot and…well, it is our OWL year, so I just sort of started reviewing. I wanted to get my work out of the way so I wouldn't be all stressed later."

His lie seemed to satisfy them, thankfully.

"I'm a bit surprised," Hermione began, "I thought you'd be demanding to know more about what the order had been up to or about Voldemort."  
Harry had to resist the urge to bite his lower lip,

"Well, you don't know anything, do you? Otherwise you would have already told me."  
Hermione and Ron both blinked at this reasoning. Harry grew a little more confident in his answer as he spoke,

"It's pointless demanding answers from people that know nothing on the subject you're questioning them about."

"So…you're really not mad?" Ron wanted to confirm.

"I'm frustrated at the situation." Harry said, "But it's not really your fault." _I think_, he added in silently.

It didn't sound like any of this was their fault, really. He wondered if the Harry who had his memories would be mad at them.

"That's very mature of you, Harry." Hermione said with an approving smile.

"She seems like a good person."

Harry's shoulders stiffened, he'd forgotten Meli was there. The fay boy was floating next to him, looking at Hermione curiously.

Harry had to agree, she seemed very…understanding.

The door opened up behind him, causing Harry to turn around. It was the red-haired woman who had hugged him at the door. He looked over at Ron briefly. Were they related? He wondered to himself. They both had the same shade of flaming red hair. And really, how common was red hair anyways?  
"The meeting's over." She announced, "You can come down now, everyone's dying to see you, Harry." She brightened.

Everyone? Harry wondered, trying not to let the worry on his face show.

As they descended the stairs, they saw some of the order members gathered in the hall. At least, Harry assumed they were the order members. Who else could they be, right? Hermione and Ron had stopped him, trying to eavesdrop on what they were saying, but Harry couldn't make out any of it. Soon they parted and Ron and Hermione seemed to give up on finding anything new information. The red headed woman met them at the base of the stairs.

"We're eating in the kitchen." She whispered, and Harry wondered why she was keeping her voice so low, "Harry, dear, if you could just tiptoe across the hall, it's through this door here –"

"CRASH!"  
"Tonks!" the woman cried in exasperation.

"I'm sorry!" Tonks cried from her position on the floor, "It's the stupid umbrella stand! I swear that's the second time I've tripped over –"

The rest of it was drowned out by an ear-splitting screech as the curtains Harry had passed earlier flew open revealing, not a door as he had suspected it was, but rather a life-sized portrait that he'd nearly mistaken for a window. The painting was of an old woman in a black cap with yellow skin all displayed in a horrifying yet realistic manner. Her shrieks seemed to wake all the other portraits. Eventually, all the screams caused Harry to cover his ears with his hands due to the volume it had reached. Lupin and the red head woman rushed over, trying to close the curtains but to no effect, causing the woman to screech even louder.

"Filth! Scum! Bioproducts of filth and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks! Be gone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my father –"

Wow, Harry thought, as they finally managed to make some sort of leeway with the curtains, she could probably rival Petunia with a set of lungs like that.

The red headed woman gave up on the curtains, opting instead to move down the hall and stun the other portraits. Lupin eventually gave up on the curtains too and joined the red head in stunning the other portraits. A man with black hair came charging across the room.

"Yooouuu!" the portrait glared at the man, "Shame of my flesh! Blood traitor! Abomination!"

"Shut up, you horrible old hag! Shut up!" He started trying to get the curtains closed. Lupin joined him and at some point, somehow, they managed to succeed.

Were they related? Harry wondered, looking at the man and feeling a bit of empathy. He could relate to having nasty relatives. At least he thought they were nasty, for all he knew he had done something horrible to deserve that nastiness. He rather hoped he wasn't a bad person, Ron and Hermione hadn't thought he was bad.

He thought back to their worried expressions when they'd thought he was mad and winced slightly at that. He then thought back to the news papers, they certainly didn't like him…

The man turned around, panting, "Hello, Harry." He said grimly, and Harry noted the familiarity. This man knew him…

"I see you've met my mother." He said, obviously unhappy.

"So then, this is your house?" Harry wondered, hitting himself mentally for saying something that might get him caught…though he supposed nearly anything could get him caught.

"No one told you?" the man asked him, surprised, "This was my parent's house. But I'm the last Black left, so it's mine now. I offered it to Dumbledore as a headquarters. About the only useful thing I can do right now." The man said bitterly.

Why was it the only useful thing he could do? Harry wondered silently.

"Harry," Meli looked a bit scared, he'd moved a bit closer to him, "That man…I think I saw him in the Daily Prophet you were reading." His eyes were wide with horror, "There's no mistaking it. That's Sirius Black."  
Who? Harry wondered. Seeing his confusion, Meli explained,

"An escaped criminal. Supposedly, the most dangerous one in Britain. I don't know why he's wanted though." Meli admitted.

Harry decided he'd have to look back through his trunk and see if he had any of his old Daily Prophet papers. He needed to check this out for himself. Why was he acquainted with a criminal?

"Harry?"

Harry's attention snapped back to Sirius who was looking at him with concern. Harry had been staring at a wall, from his point of view, for nearly a minute, his face had morphed into horror momentarily. He looked in the direction he'd been staring at, then back at Harry when he was sure there wasn't anything there,

"Is something wrong?"

"Hm? Oh, no, nothing's wrong." He said maybe a little too quickly. The man looked rather doubtful of that, but he didn't seem to press it, thankfully.

Hermione and Ron didn't seem to be worried about his presence, nor did the happy red headed woman, he noted. He still lagged a bit behind when they walked into the gloomy kitchen. It was lit up by a single fire mostly, revealing a long table with chairs crammed around it. Parchment, goblets and empty bottles littered its surface. At the end of the table was a man, nearly bald, with red hair and another man, much younger with long, red hair, tied back in a ponytail with a fang earing on his ear. He looked a bit like he was about to head off to a rock concert, Harry thought to himself.

Were they father and son? Harry wondered, he could be Ron's older brother…maybe. The older man got up from his spot at the table and came over to him, shaking his hand.

"Harry! Good to see you."

"Journey alright, Harry?" the rock concert man asked him as he distractedly tried to role up about a dozen scrolls at once, "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, then?"

Mad-Eye must have been the scarred man, Harry realized. Though it was probably a nickname. The wild, fake eye that rolled around his head was enough of an indicator as to who he was referring.

"He tried." Tonks said, going over to help.

Harry's lips twitch,

"Yeah…remind me to never ask for directions from him again."

Both Tonks and the rocker laughed at this. The red head woman smiled, lips twitching upwards.

"Oh no! Sorry." Tonks exclaimed as she knocked a candle over onto the last sheet of parchment, setting it ablaze.

"Here dear." The red head woman said, waving her wand and putting the fire out. Her tone suggested that this was not the first time she'd had to clean up one of Tonks's messes. Harry noted briefly that the parchment looked to be some sort of blueprints for a building or something.

What exactly were they planning? He wondered to himself. Noticing Harry's looking at the parchment, the red headed woman quickly snatched it away, rolling it up and placing it in the rocker's already full hands.

"This sort of stuff really ought to be cleaned up right after the meetings." She scowled to herself.

She made her way to one of the ancient looking cabinets, sweeping it off and unloading some dinner plates.

Here were footsteps in the hall and a girl with bright red hair and two older boys, identical twins, from the look of it, came into the dinning area.

"Heya, Har." One of the twins said.

"Good trip?" the other asked.

"It was alright." Harry tried not to sound too meek in his response. He didn't really know if he was the outgoing sort, or if his reply was even appropriate.

He was going into this whole thing blind. His muscles were tense and he had a feeling they'd be sore in the morning from all the stress of having to pretend he knew all these people.

"Take a seat, Harry, dear." The red headed woman offered, then turned to the twins, "Fred, George, please help me set the table. Go get the food from the counter, please."  
They both gave synchronized nods, heading off to do as they were told.

Harry took a seat and a cat, a rather ugly looking one with a flat face and orange fur jumped up onto Harry's lap.

"Hello there." He said softly, stroking the cat's fur.

The small creature looked up at him with…Harry thought it looked concerned, actually. As he stroked the cat's back, he felt his muscles relax a bit.

"Crookshanks, you spoiled kitty." Hermione shook her head.

"It's alright." Harry said, actually not wanting the cat to go away.

Hermione looked up at his face,

"You can just push him off if he becomes a bother." She told Harry, "I don't think I've seen him this affectionate before…"

Harry gave her a slight smile, but secretly found that hard to believe. He looked back down at Crookshanks, he looked like he might be part kneezle. Weren't kneezles supposed to be sensitive to other people's feelings or something? He wondered vaguely if maybe Crookshanks could sense that he had amnesia. Maybe that was why he was being so affectionate.

It was nice though, knowing that at least someone thought he wasn't a bad person. Kneezles didn't tend to even get close to distrustful people, after all.

Thank you, he thought to Crookshanks, wondering if his feelings might get through if he thought them hard enough.

"Fred, George, no! Just carry them!" the red head woman shouted.

Harry looked up, just in time to see a bread knife, a cauldron of stew and a flagon of butterbeer come hurtling towards them. On instinct, he grabbed Crookshanks to his chest and stood, trying to get out of the way.

Then, he felt his body react in a very different way. With one arm, he kept Crookshanks close to him. But with the other, he grabbed the cauldron of stew, picking it up, then setting it down exactly where he'd grabbed it, stopping its forward momentum.

He blinked a moment, then clenched his teeth as he let go of the pot. His hand, which had already been injured and sore, was now sporting an angry red burn.

"For heaven's sakes!" the red headed woman shouted, "I've had enough of this! Just because you're now of age, doesn't mean you have to use magic for every little thing!"

"We were just trying to save a little time." Twin one tried to justify, and Harry thought he would be able to tell them apart now. This one was Fred, if the way the red headed woman had looked at them in turn when shouting their names was any indication.

"Sorry, Sirius, didn't mean to –" Fred trailed off, looking at the breadknife which had planted its self in the table right in front of the man who was laughing now.

"Harry? What's wrong?" Lupin asked, then made his way over to the boy who had tensed a bit at the mention of his name.

Lupin took his injured hand, causing Harry to grimace.

"You burned yourself." He noted.

Harry gave a nod,

"It's not that bad." He said, though it certainly didn't look good.

"Where did these other injuries come from?" Lupin frowned, catching everyone else's attention.

"Injuries?" the red headed woman asked, forgetting the twins a moment in favour of Harry.

"I was carrying a vase, at the Dursleys to wash, but I fell and it sort of…exploded in my hands." Harry shrugged, not wanting to say anything more on it, really.

Crookshanks squirmed in his arms and Harry quickly let him down. When he got back up, Lupin grabbed his other hand and peeled back one of the bandages,

"This looks really deep." He frowned worriedly.

Hermione leaned over to look at the cut too,

"Harry!" she exclaimed, "Those look serious! Your relatives really should have taken you to the hospital to get stitches…"  
"It's not that bad." Harry denied.

"Come on," Lupin said, "There's a first aid kit upstairs. We'll patch you up quick."

He walked towards the door and Harry realized he was supposed to follow. He moved hesitantly after the man.

"We'll save you something to eat for later." The red headed woman promised, though there was some worry in her voice.

"Thank you." Harry said quickly, before leaving through the door.

Once they were in the hall, Lupin spoke,

"I'm staying here too." He told Harry, "At least, for the time being. My room's just down this way. We keep the first aid supplies in the closet down in that direction."

Harry nodded silently. They stopped at the hallway closet and Lupin took out a large looking white kit. It looked much like a thick brief case, then led Harry off to a room at the far end of the hall. He opened up the door and allowed Harry to enter.

"How about you take a seat on the bed?" Lupin suggested.

"Alright." Harry agreed, sitting down, somewhat hesitant.

Lupin's eyes rested on his face,

"Harry, I know I told you before that you could always come to me for help if you needed to. I thought before that you were just angry, but, did something happen?" he asked him with concern.

He opened up the kit beside the bed and started taking out vials of potion, the first was for burns. Harry recognised it from his recent reading. He took a cotton ball and started dabbing it on Harry's hand. Harry let out a small sigh as the pain started to recede.

Lupin caught a gimps of something, small scars on his hands, old scars. Harry winced as he pulled it further towards his face to get a better look.

"This has happened before."

It was a statement, not a question. Harry was silent, because once again, he found himself unable to answer. Had this happened before? With the way the Dursleys behaved, he wouldn't doubt it.

"Guess I'm pretty clumsy." Harry said, trying to keep his voice light, but Lupin was looking at him doubtfully.

"Tonks is clumsy." He said, "I know you well enough to know that you're pretty coordinated, Harry. And Snape certainly hasn't complained about you dropping potions vials during class, and you and I both know he would."

Snape. Another name Harry filed away for later as someone he ought to know.

Harry realized he'd gone on a bit too long being quiet to come up with a plausible denial.

"What's going on, Harry?" Lupin asked him worriedly.

Harry swallowed, his heart hammering. This man wasn't being accusing or nosy, he was just concerned for him. Lupin put the potion bottle away and took out another vial and another cotton ball. He peeled back the Band-Aids and nearly grimaced at the deep and shallow cuts that marred the skin of his hands. It looked horribly painful.

"Ever since we came to pick you up you've been acting…dazed, I suppose is the word. Like you aren't quite with us."

They must have had a close relationship, Harry thought to himself. He really wished he could remember this man's name, all he knew was his last name, Lupin.

Something flashed before his eyes, it was this man, Lupin, he was sitting down at a table, holding a strange, silvery looking potion in his hand. A mist rose off of it and it looked quite potent.

"_For an illness I have."_ His voice echoed in his head.

"Harry?" the same voice asked worriedly.

Harry blinked as a hand waved in front of his face, he looked over at Lupin once again.

"Sorry, I just…zoned out." He said.

"I noticed." Lupin agreed.

Harry smiled slightly, he'd gotten a memory back…or part of one, at least. An illness he had? Was Lupin sick? He looked down at his hands and noticed that the worst of his wounds had mostly healed up.

"Something on your mind?" Lupin inquired.

"Just…remembered something, or…part of something. I'm sorry." Harry told him, "But…you can't help me with this, I need to work through it alone."  
Lupin looked like he wanted to protest this, but nodded anyways.

"Even if I can't help you," he said, "I'll be here if you need to talk. Sometimes that's all you need, really."

Harry nodded,

"I appreciate it."


	3. Chapter 3

**So, lots of mysteries so far, right? Harry's glasses? I thought that might be fun to add in. I have seen a lot of stories where Harry Potter works his way up to being seriously OP. But what if, instead of starting from the very beginning, I started the story from the middle?**

**I thought Amnesia might be a good way of doing that. Harry has to figure out what the heck is happening to him, and who he was before his amnesia.**

**Keep in mind, a lot of OP versions of Harry tend to be darker or with a super-edgy personality. But this Harry is hurt and confused and I kind of think that is something that the Harry before his amnesia didn't want to acknowledge.**

**Without further ado,**

**I do not own Harry Potter. I just want to write fanfiction (^_^)**

Harry and Lupin returned in time for the end of the supper, Harry's hands had healed up and as he sat down, Crookshanks jumped right back up onto his lap. Harry smiled down at him and stroke the cat absently as he ate his food.

He hadn't realized how hungry he was until then but the Dursleys hadn't really fed him much of anything while he had been staying with them. It was nice having a full meal in his stomach. He took care in savouring every bite he took, unlike Ron who seemed to cram everything into his mouth, which was rather disgusting, really.

But maybe he had been hungry too for some reason, Harry thought to himself silently. Crookshanks purred, snuggling up to him.

Desert was served after and the chatter and excitement of the evening began to calm. Harry didn't talk much, opting simply to listen and better understand the relationship everyone had by observing their interactions.

Harry was happy that he finally learned Lupin's first name, Remus, from Sirius who was apparently quite close to him, though Harry was still having trouble figuring out his own relationship to the two of them. He guessed that they might have a sort of uncle-nephew relationship, but he still wasn't sure.

"Nearly time for bed, I think." The red headed woman said with a yawn.

"Not just yet, Molly." Sirius said and Harry added another name to his list, proud that he was making progress.

He looked at Harry,

"You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here was to start asking questions about Voldemort."

"Ron and Hermione know nothing, I asked them already, it seemed kind of pointless to ask further." Harry blinked, "And if you weren't going to tell them…why would you tell me?"

Sirius looked at Harry with a bit of confusion on his face. Harry wondered briefly if he'd said something wrong.

"Well, you've been trapped in that muggle home for months, it seems only right to give you some answers…"  
"Sirius, that's enough!" The red headed woman, Molly, snapped, now bolt upright, fists clenched and showing no signs of her earlier drowsiness.

"Hang on!" George interrupted.

"How come Harry get's his questions answered?" Fred frowned, then in a high-pitched voice, mimicking his mother, "_You're too young to be in the order_." He looked back at Molly, "Harry's not even of age."

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the order's been doing." Sirius replied, "That's your parents' decision. Harry on the other hand –"

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Molly cut in sharply.

Sharp voices cut into the air as they argued, Molly realized she was being outnumbered and looked to her husband for backup. Harry was silent through the whole thing, really wishing he knew what questions he ought to ask if he ever planned on solving the pieces to this puzzle. Why was he so different? Why had he been singled out from Ron and Hermione?

He thought back to the howler his aunt Petunia had received, but hadn't heard. Dumbledore, the leader of the order thought it necessary to offer him blood protections, why?

"Very well." Molly conceded, "Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, I want you all out of the kitchen now."  
The children instantly rebelled.

"We're of age!" Fred and George shouted at once.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" Ron challenged.

"Mom, I want to…" Ginny began.

"No!" Molly cut off once again, "I absolutely forbid –"

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George." The older red head with the receding hairline sighed warily, Harry was pretty sure he was her husband, "They _are_ of age."

"They're still in school." She argued.

"But they're legal adults now." Her husband refuted.

"I…oh, alright. Fred and George can stay, but Ron –"

"Harry will tell me and Hermione everything you say anyways." Ron vehemently stated, "Won't…won't you?"

Harry swallowed, he hated the way they were looking at him, like they were terrified he'd explode on them. It brought to mind his earlier fears. Was he a bad person?

"I will." Harry said firmly, and Ron and Hermione both seemed to relax.

"Fine." She shouted, "Fine! Ginny – bed!"

Ginny was promptly dragged out by her mother, into the hall where her protests woke the paintings. Lupin quickly ran after them, obviously hoping to stop the portraits from getting too loud.

Lupin returned a bit later, sitting down at the table, having successfully stopped the noise from the portraits from escalating too long.

"Alright, Harry," Sirius began, "What do you want to know?"

Harry licked his lips,

"What can you tell me?" He may not have known what specific questions to ask, but figured if Sirius started on a full story, he might be able to ask questions as they went, and he was certain that Ron and Hermione would be able to help.

"Well, we know quite a lot." Sirius began.

"More than he thinks we know, anyways." Lupin added in helpfully.

"He's been quiet." Sirius continued, "Right now he's in a good spot. The ministry is denying Voldemort is back…"  
"I figured as much from the Daily Prophet." Harry nodded, recalling all those nasty things that had been written about him.

"That explains a lot, doesn't it, Harry?" Meli cut in and Harry turned his head slightly towards the spirit, before looking back at Sirius. The look had been so brief that they all seemed to have missed it.

"They're calling both me and Dumbledore crazy." Harry added in. Should he call him 'Professor Dumbledore'? The Prophet had mentioned that he was the headmaster of Hogwarts or something. Harry wondered if he attended Hogwarts, that might explain his connection to Dumbledore…sort of.

No one seemed to think anything of Harry not giving him a title, so he continued to press,

"The Ministry is denying Voldemort's return, right?" he guessed, "So…if Voldemort just sits back, he an let the Ministry take care in weakening his opposition. Er, am I wrong?"

"No," Remus raised an eyebrow, "You hit the nail on the head, Harry." He looked rather impressed at the deduction, "Fudge believes that Dumbledore is after his job."  
"But that's mad!" Ron protested, "I mean, they offered Dumbledore the job of Minister and he made it clear before, he doesn't want it, right?"

"Well, yeah." Remus agreed, "But he's afraid. That's what happens when you're at the top, you fear someone will come along and take it all away from you. He's done a rather good job of discrediting him too. You've already seen the prophet, so you'll know Dumbledore was voted out of his chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards. They've demoted him from the Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot – that's the wizarding high court – and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin first class too."

Dumbledore had all those titles? Harry wondered to himself, no wonder these people made him leader…

"But Dumbledore doesn't mind, so long as they don't take him off the chocolate frog cards." The rocker said with a grin.

"It's no laughing matter." His father frowned, "If Dumbledore keeps on like this, they'll lock him up in Azkaban. While you-know-who's out there and Dumbledore trying to convince everyone he's back, he's going to be cautious for a while. With Dumbledore out of the way, well, you-know-who will have a clear field."

"I see…" Harry thought on this, his mind going a mile a minute, "He's recruiting from the shadows, then when he does resurface, he'll already have an army standing behind him."

Sirius nodded,

"Exactly."

"What else is he after? Apart from followers?" Harry decided to broaden the range of his questioning, there had to be something else, right? He'd already deduced all that so far with the information from the paper.

"We think he might be after a weapon. Something he didn't have last time." Sirius admitted.

"Something worse than the Avada Kadavra?" Ron asked weakly.

Avada Kadavra, Harry thought back on it, he recalled something about it in his fourth-year text book in Defense Against the Dark Arts. One of the three unforgivable curses. The killing curse.

"That's enough." Molly snapped from her shadowed perch by the door.

Harry hadn't even heard her return.

"I want you in bed, now. All of you." She ordered the teenagers.

"You can't boss us –" Fred began.

"Watch me." She snarled furiously, then her anger focused on Sirius, "You've given Harry plenty of information. Anymore and you might as well induct him in the order straight away."

Remus seemed to agree with the decision though,

"I think Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough."  
Harry went silent again, deciding it might be best to comply. He was worried about getting into an argument. Getting into an argument was dangerous. People got angry when things got heated and he didn't want to say anything to give himself away yet.

"I need to do something anyways before I go to bed." Harry offered, "I'd best not put it off."

Molly seemed to relax slightly and Crookshanks rubbed up against Harry's leg affectionately. The cat followed Harry out of the room, him being the first to leave while Hermione and Ron lagged behind a bit.

"He's acting rather strange, isn't he?" Hermione said quietly.

"You've noticed too?" it was surprisingly Remus who had spoken. Hermione hadn't planned on anyone overhearing her, but felt she ought to share.

"Well, he's walking around like he's in a daze half the time." Hermione offered.

"Maybe he's just tired?" Ron suggested.

"He does seem a bit off." Sirius agreed absently, "Before in the hallway he looked really scared for a moment, but he said there was nothing wrong. He is sort of dazed isn't he?"  
His eyes were almost clouded. Distant even.

"I pulled him aside earlier." Remus offered, "When I was healing his hands, I noticed there were scars there, old scars. They looked a lot like the wounds he had today. I told him he could talk to me about it if he wanted but he said he had to work though this on his own. Just…keep an eye on him for now."

"There's something wrong with Harry?" Molly Weasley asked with concern.

Harry was upstairs. He'd found his trunk in the room he was sharing with Ron, apparently and he'd pulled out his notebook and pen, ready to write down his new discoveries.

_August 6__th__,_

_Today I met Hermione, the girl who wrote me the note in the journal on the first page and Ron. Apparently, we're really close. Or at least, they act like we're close. I'll start from the beginning. Earlier this evening, my relatives, the Dursleys (I finally learned their last name) left for some sort of award ceremony, having apparently won the 'best kept lawn in England.' When I was alone, up in my room reviewing my spells (since I still can't remember them all), I heard a loud crash and voices from downstairs._

_There was a group of people, all magical that had broken into the house. I was caught off guard when the one with the sandy, greying hair and scruffy appearance seemed to know me and be on friendly terms. He introduced me to several people who I suspect I didn't know before…_

Harry continued writing well after Ron had come into the room. The red head eyes him curiously,

"What are you doing?" he asked Harry curiously.

"Well," Harry said, "I'm writing things down, so I don't forget them." He looked back down at his notebook, "I just thought, maybe it will be useful later if I want to look back on something."

"Oh." Ron said simply, "I guess that makes sense." He decided after a while.

Harry kept writing for a while as Ron changed. Harry had already changed before hand into his pyjamas before Ron had entered and had already brushed his teeth.

Harry was a bit worried about Sirius though. He was some sort of criminal, right? But what exactly had he done?

He'd written that down as one of his questions. He'd taken to writing out the questions that popped into his head in regards to some of the confusing things in his life that he didn't yet understand. He'd gotten a lot of answers so far though.

He gave a yawn, deciding it was about time he went to sleep. He placed his diary beside his bed, then put his glasses on top.

"'Night, Ron." He mumbled.

"'Night, Harry."

He went to sleep almost right away, dreaming that he was floating in a strange world full of old movie film and playing cards.

He slept all into the next morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**I didn't know where to end off for this chapter. Keep in mind, I wrote this story a long time ago, so I have a lot of it already down and written out already.**

**Re-reading it made me realize I still have a bit of a spark for it. Like…I think I want to write more. I don't know whether it will ever end or not, like with most fanfictions. I have completed stories before though and I've considered publishing a completed one…Well, we'll have to see.**

**For now, enjoy the story.**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

"Harry…Harry, wake up."  
Harry's eyes fluttered open. He caught sight of an unfamiliar face for a moment and panicked, sitting up quickly and knocking his head against the other person.

"Ouch!" the other person hissed, backing up and rubbing his head.

Harry looked around the room, then remembered last night's events. Right, he was at the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. He looked at the other boy he'd knocked heads with. That was Ron, he recalled.

He reached for his glasses and put them on his nose.

"Sorry." He apologised, "I was having a really weird dream and then I woke up with a blurry face looking over me…"

"It's fine." Ron said, still rubbing his forehead, "Mom's calling us down for breakfast. We're supposed to clean the house today."

"Oh." Harry said, getting up and making his way over to his trunk. He gathered his clothes. He took out an oversized shirt and some jeans. Somewhat embarrassed that he didn't have anything nicer to wear, but it was all he had, and he supposed everyone else was used to it by now. He paused over his trunk, looking down sadly at his things. His eyes fell on the Firebolt.  
He really wished he knew who had gotten it for him. There was no way he could afford it…come to think of it, the Dursleys would never buy this stuff for him, so where did he get the money for his supplies?

He shuffled through his things, until he found what he was looking for. A single, golden key. A Gringotts key. He still remembered that, at least.

So then, he did have a vault, but how?

Oh right, his parents, Harry recalled. What had happened to his parents?

"Harry? Mate? Are you alright?" Ron asked him slowly.

It was then that Harry realized he wasn't alone in the room. He hid the key back in it's place, before his eyes fell on something. An album, maybe? Why hadn't he seen that sooner?

"I'm fine." Harry decided, "I…" he stopped himself, "I'll change in the bathroom." He decided, picking up his diary and hiding it at the bottom of his trunk for now. It would be better to keep something like that hidden, he thought. The goal was to hide the fact that he had amnesia, and if people were already suspicious…

He left the room silently, leaving Ron staring after him wondering what that was about.

Harry waked down to the bathroom, closing the door behind him somewhat loudly. He drew the curtain back and started the shower. Placing his glasses on the sink, he undressed and got in.

"Shit." He cursed softly under his breath, tears of frustration fell down his face, but they were lost with the rest of the water.

He really wished he could remember who these people were. They treated him so kindly…He closed his eyes and finished his shower after a minute longer. Drying himself off, he put on his old, hand-me-down clothes, then silently exited the bathroom, carrying his pyjamas back to his trunk. Ron had already gone downstairs to eat breakfast, Harry noticed. He looked around nervously, before coming to a decision.

He opened up his trunk and pulled out the album, opening it up. His eyes widened.

He sat there, staring at the pictures which moved and smiled at them. Reminiscent of promises and happy days that would never come and would never be.

These must have been his parents. A woman with red hair and green eyes, his eyes, looked at him with a warm smile. A man with his messy, black hair in glasses was smiling with an air of mischief about him. Maybe it was the smile. His smile didn't look like that, Harry thought absently.

He wanted to stay longer, to look for just a while more…but he tore his eyes away and closed the book, placing it back in the bottom of his trunk underneath old clothes with holes in them and warn books from school.

He took out a few silent breaths.

"Are you okay?"  
Harry looked off to the side, seeing Meli who was looking at him with concern.

"Not really." Harry admitted, "I just saw…pictures of my parents." He felt hot tears falling down his face, he swallowed down his emotions, "I'm really happy…but I'm really sad too. I'm sorry, Meli. Just give me a moment."

He dabbed at his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, then let out a shaky breath. He sat there a while longer, before a knock came at the door,

"Yeah?" He called.

The door was opened.

"Harry?"

Harry's shoulder's tensed. It was Sirius. Sirius Black, the criminal. Crap. One of the people with the most questions surrounding him. Harry still wasn't sure if he was good or bad, if he was on his side, or if he was on someone else's. It was rather surreal in a way. He knew nothing about these people. But they knew everything about him.

Sirius made his way over to him quickly, eyes wide with alarm.

"Harry? What's wrong? Why are you crying?"

"Nothing. It's nothing." Harry denied, and he wasn't crying now.

"It's obviously something." Sirius said with a slight frown.

He had a faint scent of alcohol about him, and something sweet. Like one of those sugary snacks his cousin had seemed to enjoy.

"Harry, you haven't been yourself lately. At all. Everyone's worried about you. Ron came down a few minutes ago saying you froze up when you saw something in your trunk but you wouldn't say what was wrong."  
Harry looked back at the trunk, eyes blank.

"The firebolt…"  
Sirius looked at the trunk,

"Is there something wrong with it? I thought you liked it…I can buy you something else if you want…"

Harry blinked, looking at Sirius sharply. This was the person who had bought him the firebolt.

"No. I don't think I could ever ask for anything else. Did I ever thank you?"

Sirius looked confused,

"You did…"  
"Thank you." Harry let out a happy breath, "Well, I guess everyone's waiting for me. That's why you came up here, right?" he turned towards the door.

Sirius Black was not a bad person, he thought to himself. Whatever he had done, or hadn't done, he wasn't a bad person. When he'd had his memories, he'd believed this, he had to have. Because the firebolt was his most treasured possession and there was a reason for that, even if he didn't know what that was yet.

Sirius had only learned one thing during his talk with Harry, that Remus and Hermione had been right in their assessment of there having been something wrong with Harry.

He'd only just started to notice the strange dazedness about him. Like he was seeing the world as some sort of dream.

After breakfast they started by de-doxying the curtains. It was a bit of a messy job and there was a bit of complaining, but Harry smiled contentedly the entire time, rarely saying a word.

After lunch, Molly had them start cleaning the glass-fronted cabinets on the front sides of the mantelpiece. The doorbell rang at some point, the person who had rang it was a man called Mudigus Fletcher, someone Harry figured he wasn't supposed to have known before and had paid little attention to. He'd eaten with them the previous night and had told a story of how he had sold back a bunch of cauldrons for double the price. Molly basically chewed him out, shouting and riling up the portraits.

It was about then that a small…creature came hobbling into the hall. It was short and humanoid with incredibly wrinkly skin and large pointed bat ears with white tuffs of hair coming out of them. He was also completely bald. The only thing he wore was a rag around his waist, like a loin cloth. It didn't pay them any attention, opting instead to shuffle to the far end of the room,

"…smells like a drain and a criminal to boot!" it muttered, "But she's no better, nasty old blood traitor with her brats messing up my Mistress's house. Oh, my pour Mistress!" the pour thing wailed, "If she knew…if she knew the scum they've let into her house, what would she say to old Kreature? Oh, the shame of it! Mudbloods and traitors and werewolves and thieves…"

Harry had a strange impulse to say 'Oh my!' but held himself back, mostly due to his curiosity over what this creature was and why it was there in the first place.

"Hello, Kreature." Fred said loudly, closing the door loudly. Kreature stopped in his tracks, stopping his mutterings and giving a very fake start of surprise.

"Kreature did not see young master." He bowed down low before rising up and adding on, "Nasty little brat of a blood traitor it is."  
It was almost like Kreature had two personalities, Harry thought to himself, fascinatedly.

"Sorry?" George revealed himself, "Didn't catch that last bit."

There was most certainly a challenge in his words and Harry found himself shifting uncomfortably. Their behaviour towards Kreature reminded Harry of the Dursleys taunting towards him. It stung quite a bit, but Kreature was also dishing out a lot of verbal abuse as well.

Mudblood…was that an insult? The word made him feel angry, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

"Kreature said nothing." Kreature said with faux innocence, before once more adding in a clear voice, "And there's it's twin. Unnatural little beasts they are."

It was clearly some sort of servant, Harry observed. But who's servant?

"…and there's the mudblood, standing there bold as brass." Kreature was looking at Hermione, Harry noted.

"Oh, if my Mistress knew! Oh, how she'd cry! And there's a new one." His eyes fell on Harry this time, "Kreature doesn't know his name or what he's doing here…"

"This is Harry, Kreature." Hermione was the one to introduce him, "Harry Potter."  
Her introduction seemed to distress Kreature, his eyes widened and his mutterings picked up in speed,

"The mudblood is talking to Kreature as though she is my friend. If Kreature's Mistress saw Kreature in such company, oh, what would she say?"

"Don't call her a mudblood!" Ron and Ginny shouted together, but Hermione didn't seem too bothered.

"It doesn't matter." Hermione said quietly and in a soothing voice, trying to ease the tension, "He's not in his right mind. He doesn't know what he's saying."  
"I think he knows what he's saying."

They all turned to look at Harry who had spoken up and was now looking at the small creature.

"Harry, you don't need to be angry…" Hermione trailed off.

"I'm not." Harry said, strangely calm, "I'm just saying…I think this is his way of fighting back. It's his way…of showing that he isn't broken."

"Harry, he's pretty broken." Ron snorted.

"I mean to himself." Harry insisted, "It's his way of proving to himself that he doesn't actually belong to whoever his…master is."

Hermione was looking at Harry wide eyed.

"I don't think it matters who we are or who you are personally, Hermione." Harry said with a sheepish smile, "It's just what you represent. An intruder and someone who doesn't really know what it's like."

Kreature looked at Harry warily a moment,

"I think that saying you don't know what you're saying would be an insult. So, I won't say that. I know you're not broken…so I won't treat you like you are."

Kreature looked at Harry, up and down before he finally spoke,

"This one isn't so bad."

Hermione's mouth fell open slightly and she looked between Kreature and Harry who had somehow, despite her having tried to get through to the elf for weeks, had reached a sort of understanding.

"Thank you for having me in your home." Harry said, before he turned back to the glass cabinet and started attempting to clean up a spot he saw that just wouldn't go away.

"Kreature was cleaning." The house elf said suddenly.

"A likely story." Sirius said from behind Harry, causing the green-eyed boy to turn around.

Harry's eyes widened momentarily. Sirius was Kreature's master? He felt a stab of sadness in his chest. He'd thought the man was a good person though…

He was only vaguely aware that Molly had finished yelling at Mudigus Fletcher downstairs.

"Stand up straight!" Sirius commanded the elf, "Now what are you up to?" his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Kreature is cleaning." The elf stubbornly stuck with the lie.

"Hermione asked him to help." Harry felt his heart pound in his chest as the lie slipped out.

Everyone turned to look at Harry,

"She wanted to ask him questions about house elves." Harry said, deciding Hermione seemed interested enough in the topic. She'd talked about an organization called spew a couple of times which apparently looked after house elves or something and he had a weird feeling that Kreature was a house elf.

"That's right." Hermione said quickly, realizing Harry was trying to save Kreature and wanted to help.

Kreature was looking at the two of them, stunned. Ron, Ginny, Fred and George said nothing to contradict them, nor to confirm the story. They weren't about to rat them out now after seeing Harry earn Kreature's respect like he had.

"Alright…" Sirius relented, though obviously didn't like the idea that Kreature was associating with Harry and Hermione in such a casual way, "But I don't know if I want him here long. Whenever he 'cleans' the stuff we're about to throw out goes missing."

"Why not just give it to him then?" Harry asked with a note of defiance, "If you're throwing it out anyways."  
"Harry, there's dark magic…"  
"I know that." Harry interrupted him, "But it doesn't take a lot of effort to lift some of the curses or dark magic off the items. If Kreature wants to keep something we're intending to throw away for himself, then I think it's reasonable to allow him to keep it, so long as he asks one of the adults to lift any residual dark magic off of it first."  
They were all looking at Harry now as though he had grown a second head. Big, pear-like tears had formed in Kreature's eyes, falling down his wrinkled cheek. He quickly latched on to Harry's legs.

"Master Harry Potter is too kind!" he said, "Kreature does not deserve such kindness!" he sobbed.

Harry waved his arms about in the air, before giving up the fight for balance and falling down on his butt.

"Blimey, mate." Ron said with a mixture of both confusion and astonishment, "Are you planning on starting your own collection of misfit house elves? First Dobby and now Kreature…"  
Dobby? Harry wondered silently to himself, deciding he'd have to take note of the name later. He was having more than a little trouble trying to keep track of all the names and faces he needed to know.

Sirius looked astonished by the scene of the sobbing Kreature and the awkwardly smiling Harry who was patting his head, trying to comfort him and stop him from crying.

Hermione was left staring at Harry for a while longer, noticing for the first time how gentle his eyes seemed, even if they did possess a strange sort of distance to them now that hadn't been there before.

The way he'd handled Kreature had almost been miraculous. Magical, even. But it wasn't magic, Hermione realized, thinking back on the way Harry seemed to approach most situations, his willingness to save Buckbeak and Sirius, his actions towards others and how he had saved Dobby in the past, and his smile now.

Harry wasn't some sort of miracle worker. He was just kind.

Hermione felt her heart skip a beat.

**Ooh…Hermione might have feelings for Harry. Did anyone see that coming?**

**I actually originally didn't intend for this to be a Harry x Hermione fic. In fact, as you read more and more of the story, you'll realize Harry's relationships are a lot more complicated than you may have first believed. This isn't going to be a harem fic. In the past, I've had more than one person interested in me and I thought it might be interesting to translate that over to a story. Especially a story as emotionally driven as this one.**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, Hermione and Harry's relationship isn't going to be explored until a little bit later. This isn't a bashing fic. Ron might be a little bit jealous, but I don't want to turn him into a complete jerk. As for Dumbledore (because I know Ron and Dumbledore are bashed the most), I'm not going to make him evil. I have written fics that bash Ron and/or Dumbledore, but whenever I try, I always seem to redeem them. I'm no good at writing villains…**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

A man dressed up in fantastically colorful robes and a pointed hat came during the morning to pick Harry up, from the way people treated him, and from the way he was referred, Harry realized that this was Dumbledore, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix and headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Ron and Hermione referred to him as 'Professor Dumbledore' so Harry figured that he ought to refer to him that way as well.

Dumbledore was a rather eccentric man who often peered at Harry over half-mooned glasses. He regarded Harry curiously, having been told of his unusual, dazed behaviour.

Harry and Dumbledore had spoken a few times and though his responses were much what he expected of him, that distant look of his was certainly new. He'd seen something similar once in the eyes of an old friend who had had a strange gift for seeing into people's hearts.

His eyes were clouded, yet, it seemed that he could still see beyond the sky.

They were given their name tags before they sunk deep into the earth. Deeper and deeper.

"Visitors are required to submit to a search and present their wands for registration. This can be done at the security desk located at the far end of the atrium."

They came to a stop and the door to their small box swung open and Harry found himself standing in a very long and splendid hall.

He stepped out first, though somewhat cautiously. Half way along the hall was a gold fountain, which Harry observed a few moments longer before catching up with Dumbledore.

The headmaster noted his unusual silence. Harry was normally more outgoing and just a little more talkative with far more questions in his head than he could ever manage to slip into one conversation.

At the end of the hall, they came to a desk with a plaque on the top that read _security._

"Excuse me," Dumbledore said to catch the guard's attention.

The guard had his nose buried in a copy of the Daily Prophet and seemed rather surprised to be interrupted,

"Yes?" his voice was quite gruff.

"We're here to register our wands." The headmaster said politely.

The guard double took at Dumbledore, then nodded, ordering Harry around the side. He took his wand and checked it over. After confirming the length and materials (which Harry hadn't known before then and he certainly hoped what the guard had said was correct and he wasn't lying), Dumbledore registered his own wand and the two of them were on their way.

Some people gawked at the two, looking at Harry in particular, who shifted awkwardly under the attention. He patted his hair down over his scar, which Harry had noticed had seemed to be healing. How he'd gotten it was anyone's guess, though everyone seemed rather fascinated by the thing.

He considered taking off his glasses and hiding them as a disguise, but quickly dismissed the thought. For some reason, taking off his glasses didn't feel like a good idea.

There were many lifts in the ministry. Dumbledore led Harry onto one of them and up towards the Improper Use of Magic Office.

They found out there that Harry's trial had been moved to one hour earlier.

Why? Harry thought to himself silently, why would they try to prevent him from reaching his trial?

He felt something cold spread through his heart.

"Harry…" Meli said comfortingly, "It's going to be okay."

Harry gave a determined nod, not aware that Dumbledore was watching him out of the corner of his eye.

They entered the courtroom where a man in a green suit stuttered,

"Dumbledore! You got the letter about the trial being moved." He had paled upon seeing the man.

Did he really have such a fearsome reputation? Harry wondered to himself. He didn't seem the type. But then again, appearances could be deceiving. The Dursleys had proven that. No 'normal' family made their nephew sleep in a boot cupboard.

The Minister rattled off a bunch of names as an introductory after Harry was ordered to sit in a char with chains on it. He half expected the chains to attack him, or bind him on the spot…but they didn't, thankfully.

After every person in the court room had been introduced, they got on to the questions.

"You are Harry James Potter of Number Four Private Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, correct?" the minister, Fudge began.

James. That was his middle name, Harry thought, happy at yet another new discovery.

"Yes." He said, recalling the Dursleys address.

"You received an official warning from the Ministry for illegal use of magic three years ago, did you not?"

Harry panicked internally, he didn't know that! Nor did he know if that was even true!

"Harry, calm down." Meli said calmly, "Just repeat what I say…"

Taking a deep breath, Harry looked up at Fudge coolly,

"If this is a question for the trial its self then I believe it is irrelevant. If it is to confirm my identity, then I wish to ask for another question."

Fudge blinked, not having expected that. A woman who Harry believed to be the judge, Madam Bones had raised a single eyebrow, but otherwise kept her expression stone cold.

"Did you conjure a patronus on the night of August second?"

"Repeat after me…" Meli said again in Harry's ear.

"Yes." Harry said, and that was all he had to say on the matter. The courts murmured to themselves, some looked at Harry with disgust. But he paid them no mind, attention solely focused on Meli who seemed to have a fair handle on the issue. Dumbledore watched Harry, eyes twinkling curiously, wondering what the boy was doing.

Fudge smirked, thinking he had him now,

"Knowing that you are not permitted to use magic outside of school until you are of age at seventeen?"

Harry paused momentarily, listening to Meli before repeating what the mischievous sprite had said.

"And knowing that I have the right to defend myself from someone or something threatening my life, minister."

Fudge grinded his teeth,

"Ah yes, I thought we would be hearing a cock-a-bull story like this."

"Cornelius!" Madam Bones reprimanded.

Harry was silent, waiting for him to continue on.

"You cast a patronus in a heavily populated muggle area, did you not?" Fudge demanded.

Harry paused a moment longer. To the court, it looked like he was carefully thinking out his response as he listened to what Meli said.

"How many muggles were obliviated that night?"

"That doesn't matter." Fudge tried to dismiss.

"None then." Harry said.

"You performed magic in front of a muggle." The minister said.

"Who happened to be my blood cousin." Harry didn't have to wait for Meli to speak this time, though he waited a moment later, "And he already knew about magic, thus, you cannot claim that the statute of secrecy has been violated, correct?"

There was a murmur among the court and Dumbledore tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. Harry took another deep breath, calming himself down, though he felt horribly shaky. He was thankful for the chair he was sitting in, otherwise everyone would be able to see him shake.

Before Fudge could answer, Harry continued to press him,

"The spell I cast was the patronus charm, it seems absolutely silly to put the effort into casting such a complex spell for absolutely no reason other than there having been dementors on Private Drive. And if you want to claim it was just some sort of publicity stunt, well, I certainly have nothing to gain from something like that, do I?" His voice was cool and clear as ice as his fierce green eyes pierced into the minister, challengingly.

"If I wanted attention, it would be far easier, and far more…exciting to simply cast sparks into the sky, and if I wanted to claim an attack on my person, then it would be far easier cast a Stupify or an Expelliarmus. A patronus simply isn't practical under such circumstances. Was there any investigation done on Private Drive at all minister? The obliviators must have come to check out the scene, no? I recall clearly that the street lights had been affected and there was frost gathering on the concrete where two of the dementors had been. Some of the windows had frost on them too."

Fudge floundered, not sure how he ought to respond to Harry's argument. He seemed to actually be convincing the court.

"If I may," Dumbledore said with some amusement, "I have a witness for the defense."  
"A witness?" Fudge frowned, "There are no records of a wizard or witch living on Private Drive."

"Indeed not," Dumbledore agreed, "But one of my dear friends, a squib does live rather nearby." He turned to the door, "You may come in now, my dear."  
A batty old woman with grey, fly-away hair entered the room nervously.

By the time she was questioned, Harry knew that he would go free.

Arabella Figg was the name of the witness, and after the trial was over she apologised to Harry profusely. From what Harry had gathered, he was supposed to know this woman, in fact, she was supposed to have been his babysitter growing up.

He supposed he ought to be mad about this, that he would be mad at the deceit could he recall who she was. But he couldn't and anger just didn't seem to come.

It did bother him though, how often people seemed to apologise to him. They seemed to know that they were doing something wrong when they were doing said wrong-doing, but they did it anyways and screwed him over. That hardly seemed fair, and it only gave Harry further incentive to keep his amnesia a secret. He didn't want people abusing his lack of memory of them.

"Thank you, Meli." Harry whispered softly, he'd be sure to thank him properly later, but right now, this was all he was able to do right now.

"You're welcome, Harry." Meli said with a warm smile, "I said I'd protect you, remember?"  
Harry nodded, so far, the fay boy was holding true to his promise. He rather felt bad that he wasn't doing anything in return.

"Harry?" Dumbledore walked out of the court room, he looked around, eyes twinkling, "Were you talking to someone just now?"  
"No sir." Harry shook his head easily, "Just myself…Though I suppose that does rather count as someone, doesn't it?"  
The headmaster gave him an odd smile,

"You talk to yourself often?"  
"When I have thoughts to sort out." Harry shrugged, "It helps me think a bit clearer."

The headmaster had a strange suspicion that Harry was lying to him, though why, he hadn't the slightest. He decided to accept the lie for now.

The hearing hadn't taken up a lot of time at all, and Harry was back at Grimmauld before he knew it.

"He got off! He got off!" Fred, George and Ginny all chanted together.

Harry smiled at their antics, but as they left to converse with Dumbledore and the rest of their family, Harry couldn't help but feel the distance his amnesia had put between himself and these people. Like a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit. His eyes grew even more distant a moment.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Dumbledore asked him.

Harry looked up at the man and gave a nod,

"I'm alright." He said softly, "Just thinking about my homework, actually. I don't think I've gotten any done since coming here and the start of term is getting rather close."  
The headmaster once again got the sense that he was being lied to. There was definitely something troubling the boy.

"Oh, you're right!" Hermione realized, paling slightly, "I've only gotten my history of magic essay done!"

"We can study this afternoon." Harry offered her with a slight smile.

"Yes, that's a great idea." Hermione agreed, but Ron looked put out.

"Studying already?" the red head complained, "The start of term isn't _that_ close."

"Well, you can put it off if you want." Hermione sniffed, "But don't expect me or Harry to bail you out later when you've left it to the last minute."

"Fine." Ron waved, deciding that he'd start on his homework with them.

Dumbledore smiled in amusement at their antics, but his eyes trailed over to Harry who seemed…more distant from his friends for some reason. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry, with Voldemort resurfacing it was possible the boy was being influenced somehow. Perhaps he ought to have kept a better eye on the boy while he was with his relatives.

Curiously, when he met Harry's eyes, he attempted legilimency to see what he might be able to discern from Harry's memories only to come up blank.

The headmaster frowned at this. Blank? Was Harry using occlumency? No, this felt different. He tried again and this time, he actually did see a memory of a strange boy with pointed ears and silver hair.

"_You saved my life, Harry. I'll protect you…"_ and then the image slipped through his grasp and he was unable to find it again. He couldn't really get a focus on any of Harry's memories, actually.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione asked Harry with concern.

Dumbledore broke away as Harry squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed his temples.

"Yeah…weird, almost felt like I'd gotten brain freeze or something." He shook his head, then blinked away the pain.

Dumbledore raised a curious eyebrow. Had Harry not had any protections on his mind he wouldn't have felt a thing. How on earth did the boy manage to develop occlumency barriers? And strong ones too. He'd had a look into Harry's mind before to see what had happened in the graveyard, and once before that during the whole Chamber of Secrets incident and Harry had certainly not had any defenses before.

It was impossible to create occlumency barriers like that in so little time. He hated to conclude that Harry was being possessed…

He was about to take out his wand to stun the boy and take him to Pomphrey, when a scream caused them all to jump.

It was Molly.

Harry quickly split into action, taking off in the direction of her scream, as did everyone else. Molly was sobbing, wand out a the body of Ron Weasley lay on the floor.

Harry's eyes widened, before he processed that Ron was right there, by his side. Something clicked in his head. A passage he'd read before from his third-year textbook. A boggart.

"R-Riddikulus!" the corps transformed into her husband, dead and bleeding. She tried again,

"Riddikulus!" this time it transformed into either Fred or George, Harry couldn't tell as his face was down.

On instinct, Harry grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away from the creature, only to get in the way of it himself.

The boggart transformed into a long and thick line of film that seemed endless as it traveled downwards. Harry could make out images of the people he'd met. Of Hermione's smiling face, of Ron by her side and it switched over as the images traveled down, disappearing and turning into grey ash.

"What in the world?" Remus wondered, knowing full well that Harry's boggart was a dementor. Always a dementor. So, what was this supposed to be exactly?  
Dumbledore too was fascinated. It certainly didn't look like Voldemort's fear, his fear being his own death. But Harry's eyes were wide and his face was pale. Whatever it was that the boggart had turned into, it had him frozen.

Remus stepped in quickly and a moon appeared,

"Riddikulus!" the moon turned into a balloon, which then flew back into the cupboard. He quickly closed the door, locking it for the time being.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Remus asked the boy worriedly, breaking him out of whatever trance he'd been in.

Harry gave a mute nod, but Remus wasn't convinced,

"Your boggart was different." He said, "It's always a dementor, right?"  
A dementor? Harry thought to himself, then realized something,

"I suppose it usually would be a dementor." Harry agreed.

"What was that, Harry?" Hermione asked him, it looked like her mind was trying to piece something together, "It looked like film."

Harry was silent, and they all got the impression that this wasn't something he wanted to talk about.

"Sometimes it's tough to talk about things like that." Harry said at last, but that was all he really said on the matter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, so, this is the chapter that will explore Harry's and Hermione's relationship a bit more. I know people probably want to see more of that. This chapter is longer. I couldn't figure out where to cut it off, so…**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

A day after the boggart incident, Harry had started on his history assignment, flipping through the pages of his textbook in the Black family library, before pausing on one section of his text.

The part about the recent war.

"Harry?" Meli broke him from his stupor after nearly half an hour of staring down at the text in horror, "What's wrong?" he asked the boy worriedly.

"It's about me." Harry whispered, looking back down at his book.

"The textbook?" Meli asked curiously.

"Just this part." Harry said quietly, "It says my mother and father were murdered by Voldemort on the night of Halloween…and I survived the killing curse, leaving me with a lightning bolt shaped scar on my forehead."  
Meli's eyes widened,  
"That's why the headmaster was so fascinated by your scar." He realized.

Harry looked down at the book with fear on his face. This was getting dangerous. So, Voldemort was after him because of this? No, there had to have been a reason for him coming for him that night when he would have only been one year old.

But what?

His head hurt from the revelation and he really, really wished he could just remember everything.

"Hey, Harry?"

Harry turned around in his chair to see Hermione standing at the door.

"Hey, Hermione." He said weakly.

She made her way over to the table he was seated at, there was concern in her eyes.

"You don't look to good. Did something happen?"

Harry shook his head,

"Not really…"  
"Harry," Hermione interrupted, taking a seat next to him and looking him in the eyes, "There's something wrong. Everyone has noticed you've been acting strange lately, and then the boggart yesterday…you know you can tell me, right?"

Her pleading brown eyes made him pause momentarily. He felt a small sting in his heart, that he was making everyone worry like that. He looked away from her, staring blankly at one of the bookshelves.

"I've been thinking about it," Hermione continued, "Your boggart, I mean. Film is supposed to represent memories, in symbolic terms."  
Harry had to resist the urge to tense. Hermione kept her eyes on him,

"Professor Dumbledore…I think he reached a similar conclusion. He wanted to know if you had gaps in your memory, or if you were hearing voices. Ginny could tell you that those are what she experienced when she was possessed. It makes sense then, if you were being possessed that you'd be afraid of remembering what you were doing during those times you couldn't remember. But you aren't acting the same way Ginny did when she was being possessed." Hermione swallowed, "I believe you, when you say you don't have any memory gaps. But, I only believe you, because I know you can't have gaps, if you don't have any memories at all."

There was a long moment of silence, before Harry reached over to the side of the desk and grabbed the notebook Hermione had gotten him for his birthday. He handed it to her. Hermione swallowed hard, she was scared for him. She'd suspected for a while, and she had really wished he'd denied her conclusion. But he wasn't saying anything, and that scared her.

She looked down at the diary and slowly opened it up. She saw the small footnote she'd left him on the first page, then started reading from the first page.

_August 2nd,_

_Dementor attack on Private Drive. I woke up in my room with my cousin looking over me. I don't remember anything, but Meli says I managed to cast a patronus charm that took the form of a stag._

_There were three letters that came for me. One in the mail which said that I have a hearing for underage magic. Meli says I should be okay since we were being attacked by dementors. I guess self-defence still applies in the magical world, thankfully. One of the other letters was from someone called Arthur Weasley telling me to stay put at my home, which is apparently Number 4 Private Drive. It doesn't really feel like home though. My cousin, who's name I still can't remember hinted that my aunt and uncle don't like me._

_I was looking through my things and found this book from someone called Hermione. She sounded like a nice person in her note._

_Meli says that if I end up in hospital, I'll regress until I even forget to breathe. It's best if I just continue on and interact with people I know. I'm worried about being isolated in this house though, if I am, will I start regressing? Should I write to this Hermione to see if she can offer any advice?_

_I have a bit of a fear of being taken advantage of due to my condition. I was just attacked by dementors, after all, aren't those supposed to be under Ministry control? Not to mention, this is a very normal looking neighbourhood, I doubt wizards would live in a place like this, and I certainly wouldn't be surprised if I was the only one in this area._

She put the book down, then grabbed the boy, who'd been staring off into space and gave him a hug. Harry tensed a moment, before hesitantly returning the hug.

"Why is it always you, Harry?" Hermione murmured, stroking his back in a comforting way, then realizing something, "You don't remember me?"

Harry looked down, then shook his head,

"I don't remember you." He confirmed, "I don't remember anyone here, actually. The only reason I went with Remus when he came to pick me up was because Hedwig said he was okay."

"You remember Hedwig?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Harry shook his head,

"Not quite. When I opened up her page, she started gnawing on my history textbook. She opened it up and pointed her name out."  
Hermione looked rather impressed,

"She always was a smart owl." She said, "Have you gotten any of your memories back? Anything at all?"  
Harry thoughtfully tapped the pages of the diary,

"I got one back where I was threatening to dye Hedwig's feather's blue. Another where I was sleeping in a boot cupboard, which was apparently my bedroom at some point, and one more of Remus Lupin holding a goblet and saying it was for his illness."  
Hermione drew in a breath through her nose,

"Harry, we really should tell Dumbledore about this."  
"No." Harry shook his head, "I don't trust him."  
"Harry, he's Dumbledore." Hermione protested.

"That means nothing to me." Harry shot back, "Besides," he shifted, "I felt…uncomfortable around him. I don't have a lot to go on, in terms of who to trust and who to be wary of, but if my instincts are telling me not to trust a person, I'm going to go with that for now."  
"What about me?" Hermione asked him softly, "Do you trust me?"

Harry looked at her a moment, before making his decision,

"I don't know." He admitted, "I get…feelings of nostalgia when I'm with you or Ron. But also…"

"Also?" Hermione repeated quietly.

"Did I…do something really awful?" Harry asked her, it had bothered him for a long time, "Please…tell me truthfully what I did."

Hermione looked surprised,

"I…no. You didn't do anything wrong, Harry."

"Then why do people want me to be hurt?"

"What?" Hermione wondered. Why on earth did Harry think that? "Who wants to hurt you, Harry?" she would have to be gentle with him. She was only now realizing that she was a stranger to him and really didn't have any reason to trust her other than the fact that he knew she had known him in the past and that they had been friends.

"People are always asking me about whether the Dursleys treated me okay or if they were tolerable over the summer…so they must know about them hurting me too, right?"  
Hermione closed her eyes, her mind traveling a mile a minute. She wanted to curse and scream. Was that why his hands had been cut up? Had the Dursleys done that?

"Harry," Hermione began quietly, she knew abuse victims often tried to hide their abuse, and though she knew Harry wasn't treated well by his relatives, she didn't think that it was that bad. Looking back on it, she realized that was an awful excuse. There had been so many signs. The baggy clothes that hid his body, the way he used to tense up when she hugged him…he did that now, actually.

"I'm sorry." She said quietly, "I didn't know they hurt you that badly. I just thought you didn't get along with them. I should have seen it, there were so many signs and I didn't see it…"

Harry met her eyes and saw that she had started crying. He felt guilty, knowing he'd hurt her by suspecting they'd wanted to hurt him by placing him with the Dursleys.  
"Don't." Hermione said when he opened his mouth to say something, "It's okay." She told him, "You don't know me. You don't know anyone here, right? And from the things we've said…I'm so sorry, Harry." She swallowed hard, trying to come up with a solution, "If you want me to, Harry, I'll contact my parents and ask them if they'd be willing to take you during the summer. I won't let you go back there again, ever." She said firmly.

She was serious, Harry thought to himself. He felt his guilt return again,

"I'm sorry I hurt you…by saying that." Harry apologised.

Hermione shook her head,

"I think I might have thought the same if I was in your shoes." She admitted, wiping away her tears, "You didn't even know your name?" she remembered the diary.

Harry shook his head,

"I wrote it down a few times on one of the pages, so I wouldn't forget if I did end up regressing."

Hermione breathed slowly at the thought of her friend regressing to the point that he forgot how to breathe, like the first page had warned.

"What about your memories scares you, Harry?" she wanted to know, "Will you tell me that?"  
Harry looked down, thinking over his answer carefully. He felt an inclination to trust Hermione. She wanted to protect him and that made him feel…warm.

"I'm afraid that I'll never remember." Harry admitted, "But I'm also afraid that I will remember, because what I have remembered so far hasn't been very pleasant." He thought back to the dementors in the lightning storm, and the memory of the cupboard under the stairs.

Hermione moved her chair a bit closer to him,

"It is scary. A lot of what we went through together was terrifying." She admitted, "But I'd never want to forget it, ever, because for every bad memory, there are so many good ones too.

Harry's eyes widened and he saw something flash before his eyes. A beautiful girl dressed in a periwinkle blue gown with her hair done up. She was smiling, laughing at something her dance partner had said.

"Harry?" Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder worriedly. He'd zoned out and his eyes had gone blank, before he blinked and looked at Hermione.

"I think I remembered something."

"What?" Hermione asked him, realizing he must have regained a memory.

"You were dressed up in a blue gown. Your hair was done up and you were laughing with an older boy with really short hair."

"Victor." Hermione supplied, "Victor Crum. You must have been remembering the Yule ball last Christmas." She realized, a smile made its way onto her tear stained face. He'd gotten a memory of her…That's when she thought of something.

"Harry, do you think the more you interact with one person specifically, the more likely you are to remember them?"

Harry thought on this, then gave a nod,

"Probably. The first few days I talked to Mister Lupin a lot and got a small memory back about him drinking that goblet."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully,

"But you haven't really been interacting with us lately. Not really." She added in thoughtfully, "I think you need to try talking a bit more with Ron and I."

"What about?" Harry asked her, "I just…don't really know what to talk about with you or Ron since I don't really remember what you like or what you're interested in."

"Ron likes Quidditch." Hermione offered, "I can help you with that. Ron likes Quidditch, his favourite team is the Chuddley Canons, they've finished last in most of their seasons. That would be a good place for you to start, I think."  
Harry nodded, every question in his book was coming back to him now.

"Okay, how did we meet?" he took out his diary, and Hermione realized he was planning on taking small notes.

"You met us both on the train." Hermione offered, "The Hogwarts Express in our first year."  
"So I do attend Hogwarts then…" Harry trailed of.

Hermione's eyes widened slightly when she realized he didn't even know he attended Hogwarts.

"Yes," she said, "We're all in Gryffindor house." Seeing Harry's blank look, Hermione asked him, "Do you know about the Hogwarts houses?"  
Harry shook his head and Hermione bit her lip,

"Alright…that could be trouble in the future…Let's start there, then. At the beginning of first year, each student is sorted into one of four houses. Ravenclaw for those that seek knowledge and wisdom, Hufflepuff for those that value friendship and hard work, Slytherin for those of ambition and cunning, and Gryffindor for the brave and chivalrous."

"We're brave and chivalrous?" Harry asked her with obvious doubt in his voice.

Hermione's lips twitched and she laughed a bit at this,

"I have no idea, but that's where we went. You and Ron hit it off right away, but I didn't become friends with you two until Halloween…"  
She started telling him about what had happened during their first year, about the troll incident, the philosopher's stone, and finally, about how he'd confronted Voldemort.

"I don't really know what happened when you were alone," Hermione said slowly, "But you passed out and woke up in the hospital wing at the end of the term. Ron and I came when you woke up."  
Harry nodded, he'd written down a lot of quick notes and questions in his book.

"What about Sirius Black?" Harry asked her, "I read in the paper that he's a criminal. What did he do exactly? What's our relationship? He seems to be on familiar terms with me but I don't really know how I'm supposed to act around him."  
"Right," Hermione recalled, "That's…a tough one to explain." She admitted, "Sirius isn't really a criminal. He was framed for…betraying your parents to Voldemort. But it wasn't him." She said quickly, "The man who did it was Peter Pettigrew. Sirius Black is actually your godfather. As for your relationship…that's a tough one to say. I think you look to him as a sort of father figure, but Sirius has a lot of problems and treats you more like a friend. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure how you should treat him either." Hermione admitted.

"Alright," Harry decided he'd ask her about that a bit later, "What about Remus Lupin? All I know…from the memory I got is that he's ill. He acts like we're close though."  
"He's your father's friend." Hermione answered, "Same with Sirius. The three of them, Sirius, Remus and your father were the closest ever since their first year along with Peter Pettigrew, the one that betrayed them. But Pettigrew's name is a bit of a taboo around them. Remus is a werewolf, the potion you saw him drinking in your memory was probably the wolfsbane potion." Hermione thought the last part out loud, "Remus is also the one who taught you the patronus charm."

She then launched into the story of their third year, about how Harry had blown up his aunt (Though she didn't really know why it had happened or any details on that particular matter), how they'd met Remus on the train and how he'd saved them by casting the patronus, but that Harry had passed out from their effect on him.

The story was all from her perspective, so she told him about being pulled aside and given a time turner and how that had a rather large role to play in the chaos that was their third year.

How they'd met Sirius, who had dragged Ron off in his animagus form, a black dog, and how Remus had arrived. How Scabbers, Ron's pet rat had turned out to be Peter Pettigrew in his animagus form the whole time and how they had saved Buckbeak's life as well and broken Sirius out of confinement once again.

"We really went through all that together?" Harry wondered in amazement. But he found himself believing her. Every word of it rang with a certain familiarity.

Hermione nodded, watching Harry curiously,

"You really don't want anyone else to know about your amnesia, Harry?" she asked him.

Harry shook his head firmly,

"I think it's more important, now that I know all of this that no one else know. Please, Hermione?" he pleaded with her.

Hermione was hesitant to agree, but she did in the end,

"Alright, Harry." She decided. After everything he'd gone through, and after thinking through the story she'd told him, it made sense that he wouldn't want anyone to know. There were just far too many people who would take advantage of his condition. Or even use it to justify their conclusion that Voldemort _wasn't_ back or that Harry was crazy and if he ended up admitted to Saint Mugos…he'd die.

Regressing until he forgot to breath…the words from his diary were almost haunting…

"Harry?" she asked him, recalling something strange, "How did you learn about your condition? The details? You mentioned someone called 'Meli.'" She remembered.

Harry hesitated before nodding his head,

"Have you ever heard of the fay, Hermione?"

The bushy haired girl thought on this,

"They sound familiar. Invisible sprites or spirits usually reported by African or Asian magical practitioners. There's no proof that they exist though…"  
"That's Meli." Harry said, "He's one of the fay. The night of the dementor attack, Meli was flying overhead but somehow ended up being affected by the dementors. He kind of…crash landed into me and our souls got crossed. That's how I lost my memories."  
Hermione looked skeptical, but Meli spoke up,

"If you use shamanic magic, you should be able to get her to see me." Meli offered.

"How?" Harry asked.

"Harry?" Hermione asked him wearily.

"Meli says you can see him." Harry offered, "If you want." He held out his hand, "Take my hand."  
Hermione took his hand hesitantly.

Harry closed his eyes, focusing on what Meli was telling him to focus on. A warmth spread through his body and he heard Hermione let out a gasp. She nearly fell over as the strange silver haired, yellow eyed fay boy appeared before his eyes.

"Hello." Meli waved to her, bright eyed and happy, "I'm Meli." He introduced.

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly in disbelief. Meli giggled,

"I'm teaching Harry shamanic magic, that's what he's using right now, to allow you to see me. Cool, huh?"

"And…you aren't planning on hurting Harry, are you?" Hermione asked protectively.

Meli shook his head,

"If Harry dies, then I die. Our souls were crossed, remember? I'm as much apart of him now as he is of me. And he saved my life…I'll protect him with everything I have, no matter what." Meli said determinedly.

Then he faded from Hermione's sights. Harry let out a sigh as he stopped using his magic. He felt a bit drained. It was tough keeping something like that up for very long.

"Sorry, that was kind of tough…But, I know he means well." Harry said, "I can sort of sense his emotions…well, sometimes. What else can you tell me about me?"

Hermione told Harry everything she knew about him, everything he'd told her or observed. Harry didn't remember anything from that alone, but he did feel like he'd learned a lot more about himself. It was a bit strange though, hearing about one's self through another's eyes.

"Thank you." Harry told Hermione, "I think…one of my biggest fears was learning that I was a bad person or something."  
"You are the kindest, bravest person I know." Hermione said firmly, "Probably one of the most selfless people I know too." She added in, "You were definitely not a bad person, Harry. And you certainly aren't a bad person now. At the very least, have faith in that."  
Harry felt his face heat up a bit at Hermione's conviction and looked down in embarrassment. Then, another thought occurred to him,

"Right…I've been…noticing a few really weird things that I was hoping maybe you could clear up for me." Harry recalled, then grabbed his diary and flipped through it to the second page.

"This has been bothering me for a while, and you didn't bring it up but…I'm hoping you can tell me why, maybe…I wanted to know why I wear glasses."  
Hermione looked confused,

"Because…you need them to see?" she said puzzledly.

"I don't." Harry shook his head, taking them off and handing them to her, "Put them on."  
Furrowing her brow, Hermione put on his glasses and blinked in surprise and confusion,

"They're just glass." She realized.

Harry looked down at his lap, disappointed,

"So, you didn't know then…"

"No…" Hermione trailed off, now realizing just how peculiar that really was. Why would Harry wear glasses if he didn't need them?

"Even my relatives didn't know." Harry said, looking back over at the diary, "Why did I keep it a secret? I understand why I'd keep it from them, but you and Ron were supposed to be my best friends, right?"  
Hermione took off the glasses and looked them over, as though trying to find a clue as to where they might have come from to begin with. They weren't exactly nice looking and when she'd first seen them, Harry had taped them together as they'd broken at the bridge. It seemed odd to go through all that trouble for an old, broken pair of glasses.

"I remember in our first year you had those same glasses. They've been the same ones for years, since before I met you, actually." Hermione's forehead wrinkled, now quite fascinated with the mystery, "I remember, I repaired them on the train ride to Hogwarts during our first year, when we first met. They'd broken and you had bee using tape to hold them together." She could remember the relief and joy on Harry's face when she'd fixed his glasses. How he'd looked at her like she was some sort of saint. She had passed it off at the time, because she'd really just been trying to show off. But that wasn't really normal, not over a pair of busted glasses.

"I guess the only way we'll ever know for sure is by getting your memory back." Hermione decided, "Do you mind if I read through what you've written so far?"

"Sure." Harry offered, "Go ahead. I've been writing down a lot of questions, maybe this way you can help me go over some of the things I missed."  
Hermione smiled at that, then opened up the diary to the next page. She winced as she read about the Dursleys and their treatment of Harry, but it seemed Harry had, at the very least known he was magical and what a patronus was at the time, though not the shape his patronus had taken. Interesting.

"Do you remember your spells alright?" Hermione asked him curiously.

"I remember some things." Harry said, "But the more I review the more I feel I've forgotten. That's why I've been studying so hard since I got here."  
Hermione nodded her head. That at least explained his new study habits. She'd seen him practicing wand movements and mouthing the words with a pencil, something that she usually did when practicing. He must have subconsciously picked up the habit from her, she smiled a bit at that, then read the next page.

Soon she reached the part where Remus and Mad-Eye appeared.

"The man that picked you up, Mad-Eye," Hermione said, as Harry seemed to know at least his nickname now, "That's Alastor Moody. He's an ex-auror." Hermione explained, "The…'rocker' is Bill Weasley, the oldest Weasley brother." Hermione said with amusement, finding Harry's way of making up nicknames for the people who's names he couldn't remember to be amusing.

"Molly is Molly Weasley, and Arthur Weasley, the red headed man with the thinning hair is her husband. He's the one that wrote you that note."  
Harry nodded at this,

"How many Weasleys are there exactly?" he wondered and Hermione couldn't help but laugh a bit at that.

"Six boys and one girl. Bill is the oldest. He's a curse breaker for Gringotts. Charlie is the second oldest, he's a dragon handler and works in Romania. Then there's Percy, the third oldest, you and Ron always thought he was stuck up, and, to tell you the truth, he kind of is." Hermione admitted, "He decided to side with the ministry over his family."  
"Right…I remember Ron and the twins saying something about that." Harry recalled.

"Yes, Fred and George are oldest after Percy, then there's Ron, and Ginny's the youngest." Hermione smiled a bit, "Ginny used to have a crush on you. I get the sense that she still might."

"Uh, I'm not sure that romance is what I need right now." Harry's lips twitched slightly.

"I know, I know." Hermione smiled as well, "Just thought I should warn you, if it ever happens to come up later."

"Alright, thank you." Harry said, realizing it was good to know, even if nothing ever came of it.

Hermione looked hesitant, before explaining,

"There was a girl you liked back in fourth year, Cho Chang." She told him, "She was a seeker on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. She ended up going out with Cedric Diggory."  
"The boy who died?" Harry interrupted, "I read about it in the paper…"

Hermione let out a sigh,

"Yes…Cedric was a seeker on the Hufflepuff team, he was older than us, seventh year. He…he was very well-liked and popular. It was Pettigrew that murdered him in the graveyard on Voldemort's orders. You saw the whole thing go down. I'm sorry, Harry." She apologised, "I realize how stupid I was now…to leave you alone like that. Not only did you see him die, but you were placed with the Dursleys and…I shouldn't have left you alone. I should have done everything in my power to contact you and talk to you. Screw what Dumbledore had to say about it!"  
Harry smiled slightly,

"Maybe…" he admitted, looking down at his journal, "But…from what I can tell, no one else got me a birthday present this year accept you. You got me a diary." Harry smiled at her, "I love it, you know? I write in it every day."  
Hermione felt her heart ache at the admission. It was kind of funny in a way. She'd gotten Harry the diary thinking he wouldn't exactly like it, but that it might help him vent. She'd never, in her wildest dreams thought that her small gift could turn into maybe one of the most important things Harry had ever owned.

The sticky note in the inside cover had been ripped away at some point, then glued back down onto the cover, making it a permanent reminder of who the giver had been.

The second question down was

_Who is Hermione?_

The first question was

_Who am I?_

She started reading through the second day at the order, then through his thoughts on Remus and his frustrations over not remembering someone who obviously cared for him, and his fears over learning that Sirius Black was some sort of criminal, though not knowing what crime it was he had committed.

His thoughts and observations were very…sweet. In his second entry in the diary he had written that he wanted to find Hermione and thank her, even though she might not ever really know how grateful he really was to her for having given it to him in the first place.

She probably wouldn't know, not really. He'd been scared, without a single memory, and the only thing in the world he could rely on was this book. He'd written down his fears and confusions, writing down the small, fragmented memories he was able to uncover every now and again, most of them terrifying.

Could he even cast a patronus now? Hermione wondered.

It took a happy memory to power one, and Harry didn't really have _any_ at the moment. She looked down at the diary. One of the things that was mentioned a few times was his insecurity over his clothes.

Well, Hermione thought, if she was going to say 'screw the rules' then maybe she ought to go all the way. They had nearly killed Harry by following the rules. How long would it have taken for Harry to die if they had left him with the Dursleys in his condition?

Hermione swallowed, not sure she wanted to think about that. Maybe if she could give him a happy memory now, it could save his life later?

Her heart thundered in her chest as she leaned towards him and told him her plan.


	7. Chapter 7

**I wonder if I ramble a little too much in my author's notes. I get told I have a bad habit of revealing things sooner than I should. Here's lucky chapter Seven!**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

At five a.m. in the morning, before anyone was up, Harry got out of bed and crept down to the washroom. Inside was a small bag with clothes inside it, his clothes. He changed quickly, then quietly left the bathroom and made his way down the stairs.

He opened the front door and made his way onto the front porch where Hermione was waiting for him.

"Here." She said, putting a ski cap over his unruly hair, "That should cover your scar…" she took off his glasses and Harry had to blink in surprise at how quick they'd been swiped off his nose.

"A disguise." Hermione said in a hushed voice, "Come on."

She placed the glasses in her purse quickly. There was a mischievous spark in her eyes as she grabbed his wrist and dragged him off down the street. They walked a few blocks, saying nothing. A thrill shot through Harry as they walked down the streets, trying not to seem suspicious if anyone was watching them.

After nearly half an hour of walking, Hermione raised her wand in the air. Harry nearly stumbled back as a large, triple-decker bus appeared in front of them. Hermione grinned, finding Harry's astonishment amusing, considering this wasn't his first time.

The conductor and driver were rather enthusiastic, though Harry felt a little weary about the whole thing. The seats weren't nailed down, for one and the seatbelts weren't attacked. How exactly was this safe again? But Hermione didn't seem to be concerned, he noted, eyes traveling over to her face. She looked over at Harry with amusement.

"Having fu-un, Harry?" her words were slightly cut as she tried to regain her balance due to her seat sliding around.

Harry smiled, then laughed, causing Hermione to laugh along with him. There wasn't really any reason. They just laughed.

The Knight bus dropped them off at the Leaky Cauldron. They both got off, thanking the conductor and driver before walking in through the entrance into Diagon.

They stopped off at the bank first. The goblin, Griphook was the one to guide them. He eyed Hermione wearily a moment, but then decided that it didn't matter who Harry decided to let into his vault.

Harry's eyes widened when he saw the vault, he looked at Hermione who was also surprised. But Harry quickly schooled his features before Griphook turned around.

"Thanks." Harry said awkwardly.

The goblin nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Can you convert some of this into pounds?" Hermione asked the goblin curiously.

Griphook gave her a hesitant nod,

"How much do you want converted?"

After exiting Harry's vault, the two made their way down to London. It was about five thirty at the time, still too early to do much, but Hermione actually managed to find a hair dresser's place that was open and dragged Harry inside.

"Hair cuts?" Harry asked her oddly, "That's how we're going to kill time?"  
Hermione shrugged her shoulders,

"You said you didn't like your hair, so we'll make it so that you do." It seemed quite logical to her.

Harry smiled, then gave a nod,

"Alright." He felt another thrill pass through him, he couldn't help but find the whole thing to be kind of exciting. Thrilling, even.

Hermione smiled to herself, recalling all the stupid things Harry had had to deal with over the years. Just for a day, he could be free.

Harry's hair was still messy, but not nearly as messy as it had been. It was a tame sort of messy and not so thick that it looked like the rat's nest it had resembled before.

For fun, Hermione had cut her hair short in a sort of bob and gotten bangs which hung down over her forehead. She'd wanted something different. Different enough that it would take a person to look twice to actually recognise her.

They ate at a diner for breakfast. Harry got pancakes, since he couldn't ever remember having them before, not that that was a big thing considering his condition. But when he took his first bite it was like the most amazing thing he had ever tasted.

Hermione laughed at the face he made,

"Good?" She asked him.

Harry nodded, enthusiastically,

"It's delicious! I wonder if I ever had these before…"

Hermione thought back to their time at Hogwarts.

"They don't really serve pancakes at school, now that I think about it…" And she doubted he would have eaten any at the Dursleys, not that she wanted to say that one out loud. Harry was happy, smiling enthusiastically as he dug into his pancakes. Hermione started eating her egg bagel, watching him every now and then.

Hermione used a credit card her parents had gotten her in case of emergencies to pay for the food. She'd have to contact them later to explain why she had done what she'd done. She didn't want them to worry, and she knew that they would if they found out she had used the card at all.

Hermione smiled every now and then. It was like he was really seeing things for the first time. That must be so strange for him…

"You sure you want to pay?" Harry asked when the time came to pay the bill, "I have money…"  
"I know." Hermione smiled, "But I was thinking we'd use that money for something else."  
The waitress was looking between them with a questioning glance, but seemed to lose interest after a moment. Hermione quickly paid and then dragged Harry out onto the streets of London.

"What exactly are we doing?" Harry wondered.

"We're buying you some new clothes." Hermione said with a smiled, "You said, in your journal that you felt uncomfortable in the ones you own. So, let's get you some you're comfortable in."

Harry blinked in surprise at her announcement, but his face soon broke into a smile,

"I see."

"You do want that, right?" Hermione asked him hesitantly.  
The whole point of this outing was to give Harry some good memories. Something he might be able to use to cast a patronus later if…when he came across more dementors, so that he could be better protected. And, of course, to give him happy memories that he could be proud of, even if all of his memories turned out to be horrible in the end, he'd still have this one. She wanted him to have something he could be happy about.

So, she dragged him about into stores, most of the popular ones she had known about and found that, oddly enough, Harry was actually pretty picky about what he wanted to wear, leaning a bit more towards darker colors and greens. He seemed to quite like the color green, something Hermione had never really noticed before.

It might be because green was a Slytherin color, Hermione thought to herself, now that Harry had no memory of colors being associated with houses, nor of the house prejudices, he was free to choose whatever without anything holding him back.

So far, all Harry had bought were some jeans, one striped, green and black shirt, and a black hoody.

"Maybe we should try that store." Hermione pointed, it was an alternative fashion store, definitely not main-stream. But it seemed like a good idea. Harry was finding himself, trying to figure out who he was and Hermione wasn't really sure she knew exactly who her best friend was either after having spent the day with him. His tastes were definitely not what she had been expecting.

Harry's relatives had always been rather obsessed with 'normalcy' so maybe this was his way of rebelling after having spent so many days with them, and constantly being clothed in what he'd been given, the hand-me-downs provided by his cousin, it made a weird amount of sense that he'd want to break out of this mould. Yet, the Harry Hermione had known had wanted nothing more than to blend in with the world around him and not stand out do to his fame.

It might be due to different influential factors. Harry had only been at the Dursleys for a few days, but he'd been with the order longer, according to his memory.

They entered the store and were given a few raised eyebrows, but Harry seemed to not notice, or he just didn't care. He smiled, noticing a few things he rather liked and tested them out in the change room.

Jackets, shirts, accessories. He tried on what he thought looked interesting, including a pair of fingerless gloves which he seemed to find absolutely fascinating.

One of the store clerks watched with some amusement as they approached with Harry's purchases.

"You know, this comes with a nice ear ring." The clerk said.

"No." Hermione looked at Harry sternly, "Your godfather will kill us…and I'm talking about your godfather here. The irresponsible wonder. He'll kill us after Mrs. Weasley rips through us…then Remus." She added in as an after thought.

Harry smiled,

"Alright, let them be mad at us sneaking off first. I'll wait until next summer at least before I get a piercing."  
Hermione let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and the purchases were all rung up. It was expensive, but it was what Harry wanted. Apparently, you needed to be loaded to consider alternative fashion.

Harry still had a smiling face when he left though, happy with what he'd gotten. A thought occurred to Hermione as she turned to the clerk,

"Can he change in the back?" she asked him, "His house burned down yesterday, so all his clothes went with it. The stuff he's wearing now is a bit too big."  
The clerk bought the excuse, it made a lot of sense,

"Of course." He offered, "You know where it is, right? Just back there."

Hermione thanked him, dragging Harry to the back and pushing him into the change room.

"Put on whatever you want." She told him.

So, Harry put on the stripped shirt and a short sleeved, black jacket with a decorative buckle on the side he'd gotten from the store they were in now, black jeans, and a green collar, all of which went together rather well.

"You look good." Hermione commented to him and Harry beamed.

He didn't look so uncomfortable anymore, Hermione noted, wondering if he had his memories if he'd still be insecure or not.

She pushed the thought aside as the two exited the store. Harry took out the over-sized hand-me-downs and threw them into the trash.

"Where to now?" Harry asked Hermione.

It was about one thirty now and to be completely honest, he didn't want the day to end.

Hermione looked thoughtful before her eyes lit up with an idea.

The two of them went bowling together in a bowling alley a ways down, grabbing some hot dogs and sodas for lunch while they were there. Neither of them were particularly good, but they both knew how to laugh at themselves when they messed up and they certainly enjoyed it.

At about three o-clock, they found an indoor rink and decided to go skating. Hermione could skate rather well, but Harry, obviously had no clue how.

She grabbed his hands and helped him learn. By the end of the day he was scatting pretty well and enjoying the experience fully.

If Harry had grown up with his parents, Hermione thought to herself, would he have learned how to skate? Her mother and father had taken her down to the rink when she had been very little, three years old, in fact, and they'd taught her. She'd always figured it was something that families did together. Maybe even something she had taken for granted.

They had supper at around six at a restaurant, then went to a movie theatre next door and saw a movie. It was a comedy and they were both laughing throughout the whole thing. The theatre was nearly empty, Hermione supposed it was because it was a Tuesday, so it was really just them and four other people.

Hermione found, to her amazement that she actually wasn't dreading their return to Grimmauld place. She was prepared to face any consequences they had in store for them. She had no regrets and if given the choice, she would have done it all over again, dragging Harry out and taking him shopping, bowling, teaching him to skate, and seeing a lame comedy.

Harry stopped laughing a moment, his eyes went blank.

"Harry?" Hermione asked him.

The boy snapped his attention back at her, a grin split his face.

"I remember something." He said excitedly, "You were there…and so was Ron. You were saying…something about how we could have died, or worse, gotten expelled."  
Hermione's face went blank a moment, before a smile split her face and she burst out laughing. Harry laughed along with her.


	8. Chapter 8

**Another too-long chapter. Ugh. But the cut-offs are all weird! Why am I complaining to you guys? You can't do anything about that.**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

Hermione and Harry took the Knight Bus back to Grimmauld Place at around eight thirty, arriving at around eight thirty-four close to an intersection.

The two of them, once again, thanked the driver and conductor.

"Oh, right." Hermione reached into her purse and took out his glassed, "Here."  
She handed them to him,

"I don't know why you wear these…" she began, "But there has to be a reason, right?"

Harry looked at the glasses in her hands. Dread filled his stomach for some reason. But he put them on his nose. His eyes widened momentarily, going blank as he stared off at nothing.

"_Who were my parents?" Harry pleaded. His voice sounded a lot younger and he felt like he'd been crying._

_Petunia Dursley was regarding him coldly._

"_They were no good drunks who got themselves killed in a car crash."  
It hurt to hear that, it made Harry's heart burn with sadness and maybe even with anger. He wanted to deny it, but he didn't really know them, so he had no basis to deny anything she said. And she knew this._

_But that didn't mean he was going to be satisfied with just that._

"_What did they look like? What were their names?"_

_He wanted to know. He was desperate for anything. Anything at all. Anything that would contradict his own memory of the incident._

"_I have one photo from their wedding." Petunia looked upset, "If I show it to you, you need to promise never to ask me about them again, do you understand?" her voice was harsh and reprimanding. Even a bit dangerous._

_But Harry agreed._

_Petunia left the room a moment, then came back with a crumpled photo of a man with brown hair and round glasses and a woman with red hair and green eyes._

_His heart felt cold…_

There was another flash and the scene changed before his eyes.

_He was looking in the glass of a window. He and his aunt and cousin were out shopping. This wasn't long after seeing the photo and he couldn't help but think back to it. In the end, he didn't really have anything to remember his parents by._

_Dudley was going in for an eye exam because his teacher had said he might be having trouble seeing the board._

_Or he's just stupid, Harry thought to himself darkly._

_He sat in the waiting room when his eyes caught a glimpse of something. His eyes widened as he saw a pair of round glasses sitting off to the side. They looked exactly like the ones his father had warn in the picture at his wedding._

_He got up from his seat and made his way to the eye doctor._

"_Excuse me…excuse me, sir?" he hated speaking up around adults._

_Adults were dangerous. More dangerous because he couldn't defend himself against them._

"_Yes? Are you here for an eye exam?" he asked Harry politely, though Harry caught a hint in his voice that all adults had when speaking to children._

"_No…" he looked down, "I…my cousin's here for an exam but…those glasses, over there, please, can I have them?"  
The doctor frowned at that, looking confused,_

"_But you don't need glasses, right?"_

_Harry had to bite his lip to stop it from trembling,_

"_They look like the glasses my father wore…in the photo my aunt showed me once…"  
"Boy!" Petunia snapped angrily._

_Harry's eyes widened fearfully and the doctor's expression changed to one of concern._

"_Quit bothering the nice man." His aunt snapped. She grabbed him by his arm roughly and Harry knew that he'd end up with a bruise._

"_I noticed the boy has a squint." The eye doctor said, stopping the woman in her tracks, "Your son is in there getting his eyes looked at, right? Right now, there's a special going on for kids, if you bring in two, the other eye exam is free. Do you mind if I did a few tests?"  
Petunia pursed her lips, she wanted to say 'no.' But it seemed rather suspicious to turn it down when she had two kids and the eye exam was free._

"_Well, I don't want to bother you…"  
"It's no bother." The doctor said quickly, then looked down at Harry, "Have the boy come with me a moment…"  
Harry followed the doctor passed the counter and into a private room where they played small games for a few minutes, before he came out._

_Petunia was waiting there impatiently._

"_It seems your nephew needs glasses." The man said._

_Petunia looked angry at this for a moment, but asked him,_

"_Is it possible for him to go without, at all?"_

"_Well, that wouldn't be a good idea." The doctor lied, "But if you're tight on money, we actually have a pair in the back with the same prescription. A client ordered them a while back but didn't pick them up and we haven't been able to sell them. I'll give it to you free."  
Petunia jumped on the offer._

_Harry was given the bulky, round glasses he'd seen without any prescription in them. They became his prized possession that day._

Harry flashed back to the present, Hermione had placed a hand on his shoulder with concern. Harry reached up and drew the glasses off his nose, looking at them as though he were seeing them for the first time.

"You remembered something?" Hermione asked Harry.

Harry nodded. That had been the longest memory he'd had so far.

"Yeah." He said softly. But he didn't say what it was. He felt…disappointed in himself, to be honest. The glasses were his prized possession. They were also his greatest shame, because he knew that he relied on them as a sort of security blanket. A comfort in times of trouble, maybe even something to give him courage. He didn't know how he knew that, but he did. There were a lot of memories connected to those glasses.

Hermione looked like she wanted to ask, but she held her tongue as they made their way up to number twelve and entered the house through the door.

As they'd expected, Molly Weasley came running into the hall, a horribly angry look on her face. Her face was nearly as red as her hair, indicating that she was about to erupt.

"Hermione Jean Granger! Harry James Potter! Where the hell have you two been!?"

Harry winced a bit at the sudden noise, but he wasn't afraid or anything. His eyes gazed dazedly at the wall behind her.

"Do you realize how dangerous it is to leave!?"  
Her shouting had caused some of the portraits to start up again, and that in turn caused Remus and Sirius to enter the room.

"Harry!" Sirius, wrapped his arms around him, causing Harry to stiffen a moment at the sudden contact. He awkwardly patted the man on the back.

Sirius pulled away, not seeming to have noticed,

"Where were you? Why did you leave? Do you realize how dangerous that was? Voldemort is out there, Harry. You can't just…"  
"I did it." Hermione said calmly, drawing attention to her, "I convinced Harry to come with me to London for a bit. He was against it, but I'm the one who dragged him along. You can yell at me." She said defiantly.

Everyone looked confused at this. It was certainly unusual behaviour for the girl in question.

"It might have been her plan, but I went of my own free will." Harry said slowly, "Which makes me equally liable."  
The fact that Harry acknowledged it was Hermione's plan made them all even more confused.

"Harry," Hermione said delicately, "How about you put away your new clothes upstairs…and burn those other clothes or something."  
"No." Molly Weasley frowned, "I want to talk to both of you."  
"And you will." Hermione said with her own frown, "But only after I explained what happened, what we did, and why. Harry, please leave for a while, I want to talk to them alone."  
Harry looked at her confused, and obviously reluctant. Hermione smiled at him,

"I can handle this, Harry. I promise." She didn't want them yelling at him while he was still confused and in turmoil over his own missing memories.

Plus, she wanted to make a few things clear with these people now. Still reluctant, he decided that Hermione had a handle on the situation and left up the stairs with his bags, slowly.

Once he was out of earshot, Hermione let out a sigh, then looked at the three adults.

"I am so angry. Mostly at myself, but I'm also mad at everyone else too." She said in a definitely angry-calm sort of voice, "I read Harry's diary."

"Diary?" Remus wondered.

"Harry has a diary?" Sirius frowned, thinking that to be rather strange.

"Yes." Hermione said, not liking their tone, "Obviously, I won't tell you everything that's in there." She most certainly was not going to tell them about Harry's amnesia. She'd promised she wouldn't.

"But some of the stuff in there…it's horrible."

"Horrible?" Molly's anger seemed to nearly melt away, though it still retained a reddish tint, indicating that she hadn't completely forgotten her anger.

"What is wrong with us? What's wrong with me?" Hermione clenched her hands into fists, "We kept asking him 'the Dursleys weren't too bad, right?' 'How'd the Dursleys treat you?'" Her eyes were watering, "Please…be honest, did you know? Did you know that they hit him? Did you know that his hands were injured earlier because his uncle had pushed him down the stairs while he was taking his aunt's vase to the kitchen to be cleaned?"  
The three adults looked horrified and by now Molly's face had completely drained of blood.

"Did you know they withheld food?" Hermione pressed, then swallowed back her anger, "Did you know he thought that when we asked him how the Dursleys were treating him that we were really telling him that he deserved it? That he had somehow committed some horrible crime that he couldn't remember? Did you know he used to sleep in a boot cupboard because the Dursleys didn't see fit to give him a proper room?"

There were all quiet, none of them were able to speak, before Sirius finally did. His voice was weak.  
"I didn't know that."

Hermione clenched her teeth, her expression had grown dark,

"I told you to give you a chance to do something about it. If you fail him again, then I swear, I will take him to a safe house of my own, because _I_ won't fail him again."

The next morning, Harry woke up and automatically reached for his glasses, only to pause. He sat up and grabbed the glassed in his hand delicately, looking down at them with worry and some fear.

"Harry?"

He jumped, looking over at Ron who had woken up and was now looking at him with a frown.

"You and Hermione disappeared yesterday."  
Harry gave a nod.

"What did you do?"

"Mostly shopping for some clothes." Harry answered, then looked down at his lap, his eyes grew distant as he recalled the memories he'd gotten back that day.

"You don't…" Ron paused, "Are you two dating?"  
"Dating?" Harry wondered, "No. Hermione's a friend. She was trying to help me with a problem I've been having."  
"Is that why you've been acting so weird?" Ron looked relieved a moment, though Harry didn't really know why. Did he like Hermione? He wondered to himself.

"Sort of." Harry admitted, "Hermione figured it out…what was happening. She's trying to help me figure it out but…"

"What is going on?" Ron asked him, wanting to know, "You're just…so out of it. It's kind of scary, mate."  
Ron was afraid for him? Harry wondered, looking at the red head.

"I'm sorry." Harry said, "It's just…I didn't want Hermione to find out at all. Not yet. Can you give me a bit longer, Ron? I promise I'll tell you myself soon."

Ron looked at him warily, but gave a nod,

"Alright. I'll hold you to that though." He warned. He didn't like being left out of the loop, and he wasn't sure how he felt about Hermione and Harry sharing this secret.

"So…you like Hermione?" Harry asked him with a slight smile that could have been considered mischievous.

Ron turned bright red,

"W-wha?"

Harry's eyes dimmed a moment as he felt another memory take hold,

"_Don't break off from the group, Harry."_

"_Wha? Sensei, how did you know?"_

_The Japanese man smiled at him mischievously,_

"_I have ESP."_

_Harry's eyes went wide,_

"_What –"_

"_Just kidding."_

Harry smiled at him and gave a nod as he was pulled out of the memory. A knock on their bedroom door caused them to both look up.

"Harry?" it was Sirius's voice, "It's Remus and I. Do you think we could talk to you? Alone?"

Harry looked over at Ron who gave a shrug,

"Your call, mate."

"Thanks, Ron." Harry said, "Yeah, it's fine, just let me get dressed first."

He went over to his bag and started pulling out some of the new clothes he'd bought the other day with Hermione.

"I'll leave." Ron yawned, not caring who saw him in his pyjamas and opening the door, entering the hall and closing the door behind him before scooting passed Remus and Sirius and down the stairs to get to the kitchen for some breakfast.

The door to Harry's and Ron's room opened. Remus and Sirius both blinked in surprise when they saw Harry who was wearing black jeans, with a chain hanging in a loop at his waist, a dark V-neck shirt, and black jacket with a decorative buckle at the side along with a buckle around his neck.

"Yeah?" he asked them.

"Your glasses…" Remus trailed off.

Harry's eyes widened slightly, before settling. He moved back over to his dresser and picked them up, putting them on his face.

Remus and Sirius shared a look, having noticed the peculiar reaction. Just what in the world was going on here?

They remembered what they had come there for, and decided that perhaps it was best to handle one thing at a time.

"Harry," Sirius began, "How about you sit down?"

Harry stood a moment longer,

"Hermione told you…about the Dursleys?" he realized, though his tone of voice was oddly bland.

"She did." Remus said worriedly, deciding it would do no good to lie about it. It was why they had come.

"Harry," Remus tried again, "We had no idea they were hurting you. Please believe that. We don't want to see you hurt, ever and Sirius and I won't let you go back there if you don't want to."

Harry looked away, sitting down on his bed. He was silent for a while, before he spoke,

"There are blood wards around the property, according to Dumbledore. I try not to spend much time in that house anyways though." Harry admitted, "I'm not even sure they really work…since I don't consider that place home."

Remus grimaced at that. They probably didn't work then if what Harry said was true. He knew enough about warding to know wards like that only functioned if the one they were protecting considered that place a sanctuary of sorts and from what he knew now of Harry's life, that place was more of a prison.

Remus looked back at Harry's face, trying to figure out exactly what the boy was thinking when he noticed something peculiar. Harry didn't look as much like his father as he'd first thought. His hair was messy, but it wasn't really like James's. While James's hair was a dark brown, Harry's was raven black.

Even his face was different. Sure, there were similarities, but there were far more differences which had gotten even more pronounced since Remus had seen him in his third year.

Remus took a seat on Harry's bed, causing the boy to sit down beside him. Sirius sat down at his other side and put a hand on Harry's back, causing him to flinch slight at the contact. But he settled into his touch after a moment. It was certainly something Sirius had noticed now though. Come to think of it, hadn't Harry flinched when he had hugged him before?

Sirius took his hand away from his back, placing it at his side instead.

"My mother was horrible to me. So was my father." Sirius said, "They never punched me, but my mother slapped me a few times. About five times in total." Sirius recalled, "I can remember each incident. Outside of that, well, you met her portrait." He paused a moment, wondering if he was getting through to Harry at all, the boy's face was mostly blank, "I ran away after my mother disowned me and lived with your father. James was…like a brother to me. His parents were like family to me. They took me in and treated me as one of their own." Sirius swallowed hard, "I don't know what it was like for you, growing up. I thought that maybe it was a bit like that, at worst, and I hated thinking just that. Now Remus and I are freaking out because we know it was so much worse for you."

Harry still hadn't said a word, and Sirius really wish he would.

"Hermione said," Remus began, "She read your diary, that your uncle pushed you down the stairs while you were carrying a vase and that's how you hurt your hands."

There was a moment of silence before Harry nodded his head in confirmation.

"Did this happen often?" Remus wanted to know.

Harry thought back on the few days he'd been at the Dursleys, and gave another nod. It seemed like it happened often, though he had a feeling he knew how to better dodge them before.

"Did something bad happen there?" Sirius pressed a bit, "Something worse than usual, Harry? You've been acting so strange…"

Harry's eyes grew distant as he looked up at the wall at the other side of the room.

"That has nothing to do with the Dursleys." He said quietly.

"Alright," Sirius said, putting his arm around Harry and leaning him up against his shoulder.

"You reek of booze." Harry commented absently.

"Yeah? Well?" Harry felt Sirius smell his hair and blinked at the strange interaction, "You smell of…mint and Jasmine and herbs…that's kind of weird."

"Sirius…" Remus shook his head disapprovingly, but his lips twitched every now and then, betraying his amusement.

Sirius grinned seeing that he'd managed to get Harry's lips to twitch upwards slightly. Sirius let out a sigh, really wishing he could do something for Harry…anything. Harry lifted his head away scooting out of Sirius's grasp, then silently got up and headed over to his trunk, taking out a bag. He tossed it to Sirius.

"Here."

Sirius blinked in surprise as he caught it,

"Um…"  
"I bought it for you when I went out with Hermione." Harry explained.

Curious, Sirius opened up the bag. His face furrowed in confusion as he pulled out a box and what looked like a bunch of make-up.

"Uh…"  
"So you can go out." Harry said, "Muggle London has basically forgotten about you. Just cut your hair, dye it, you should be fine. Those are color contacts." Harry added when Sirius took out another box, "You put them in your eye, and they change your eye color."  
"Muggles invented this?" Sirius wondered, disbelievingly.

"It's pretty popular with punks and goths, to chose red or yellow or animalistic contacts." Harry shrugged his shoulders, "If you wear them, you can go out as often as you want."

Sirius took out a variety of hair dyes, though there was only one box of color contacts. His mouth dropped open slightly and Remus's eyebrows reached his hairline,

"That's not a bad idea." He said, looking at the muggle products with astonishment.

Harry shrugged,

"Just follow the instructions and you should be good to go. Maybe ask someone around here to help you cut your hair, if you style it differently, it will help some."

Wizards, though they did have beauty care products, didn't have so much in the way of disguise material other than polyjuice.

"You might not be able to help the order much right now," Harry told Sirius, "But you could get out a bit. I know you hate this place."

Harry was suddenly drawn into a big hug.

"Thanks, pup this is…this is amazing." Sirius said.

Harry awkwardly patted the man on the back,

"Alright…just…don't go too crazy, and don't spend all your time at bars."

Sirius pulled out of the hug, a huge grin on his face,  
"Alright, alright, I think you're trying to say I should cut back on the booze." He said playfully, then messed up Harry's hair.

Harry batted his hand away and gave him a look of annoyance and Sirius's face softened,

"You can always come to us…or Hermione or Ron if you ever need to talk." He told Harry, "Even Molly or Arthur…just talk to someone, at some point. Promise me that?" Sirius asked him hopefully.

"That's an easy enough promise." Harry said, "Considering I've told Hermione nearly everything."  
Sirius raised an eyebrow at this,

"Oh?" he said rather strangely, "I didn't know you two were together…"  
"We aren't." Harry said, feeling his face heat up a bit, "We're just friends. She just happened to figure things out on her own."

"I heard she read your diary." Sirius commented.

"I let her read the diary." Harry rolled his eyes, causing the two men to look at him oddly. Harry let out a sigh,

"Hermione confronted me. She figured out why I was, in her words, 'acting so strange.' I gave her my diary after that because I was hoping she could help me figure something out. She might be nosy at times, but she wouldn't read my diary without my permission." He smiled at this, realizing he meant what he'd said. Even if he only had one memory of her before the dementor attack, he knew in his heart that what he was saying was true. Maybe that was a sort of memory too, Harry thought to himself, not the sort you thought back on, but the sort of knowledge you knew on instinct about a person.

"I'm going down for breakfast." Harry decided.

Remus and Sirius looked at him, a bit confused. They knew they were missing something, but they couldn't quite place what…Harry smiled again, though it was a strange sort of smile, one that was a mixture of sadness and happiness while still retaining that same, strange dazed air that Harry had about him lately. He turned around and walked out of the room, leaving the two men alone.

"There's something…strange about Harry." Sirius couldn't put it into words.

Remus gave an absent nod,

"I haven't had as much correspondence as you have with him." He admitted, "But I can't say we ever had a very in-depth conversation either. There are some things that I know are different, but there are some things I'm not so sure about that are…rather strange."

Sirius found that he was thinking much along the same lines.


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, finally getting into the actual Hogwarts bit here.**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

Owls arrived at number twelve Grimmauld Place that evening addressed to the kids. Their Hogwarts letters with a list of materials they would need for the year.

Hermione and Ron were shocked and pleased to discover they had both made Prefect. Ron was practically jumping up and down, and Hermione was nearly ready to join him, before she stopped and caught a look at Harry who was staring at his letter blankly. He'd zoned out. Much like he did when he was regaining one of his memories. His face contorted into a soft smile. That was when Hermione realized something.

She looked down at her prefect's badge, clutching it in her grasp and observing the beautiful 'P' in the center before letting out a sigh. She got up off from her spot in the library. She got out a piece of parchment, before dipping her quill into some black ink and starting up a letter.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, surprised by the strange behaviour.

Hermione looked up and noticed that Harry was also looking at her with concern.

"What's wrong?" The green-eyed boy looked at her worriedly.

"I'm sending back the badge." Hermione said firmly.

"What!? Are you mad!?" Ron shouted with disbelief.

Hermione Granger? Turning down the position of prefect? What sort of alternate reality had he entered?

"Is it because of me?"

Ron and Hermione both snapped their attention over to Harry who was looking down at the table, eyebrows knitted with worry and hope that it really wasn't because of him. He didn't want to hold his friends back.

Hermione bit her lower lip and Ron's face turned red.

"Alright, what's going on?" The red head demanded, "You've been acting weird." He looked at Harry pointedly, "And you," he looked over at Hermione, "Seem to be in on the secret now. Are you dating? Is that it?"  
"What? No!" Hermione denied, face a bit red.

Harry blushed a bit at the accusation. But neither could offer up an excuse, both going silent quickly after Hermione's denial.

"Then what's going on?" Ron asked frustrated, "Harry walks around like he's in a freaking daze half the time, and you act like you're really worried about something." He said to Hermione, "You guys…you're scaring me. I know Harry says he'll tell me eventually but this…Hermione, you were made prefect. That's…that's kind of big. I know you've always wanted it, and I don't like the idea that you might give up on something you worked so hard for just like that…"  
"Some things are more important than that." Hermione said with determination set in her eyes, "I can't take this…because I know that if I take it, I'll regret it far more. I'd hate myself for the rest of my life."

Ron looked surprised for a moment, then uncertainty marred his features,

"I…don't think I'd want to do this without you, 'Mione." He said slowly, "I mean…you're the brains, you know? You're the one with the perfect scores and the one that likes upholding responsibility and…" he looked down at the prefects badge longingly.

"Ron, you don't have to give it up just because I am." Hermione shook her head, "You've been wanting to be a prefect forever too, right? You should. It would be nice to have someone out of the three of us to have a bit of authority." Hermione frowned momentarily, "Just don't abuse your privileges."

Ron looked wary,

"You sure?"  
"I'm sure." Hermione smiled, then went back to writing her letter, she quickly folded it up, then looked at Harry, "Could I borrow Hedwig for a bit?"

"Go ahead." Harry gestured.

Hermione gave a nod, then got up from her seat and made her way out of the library, leaving the two alone.

"I can't believe she's really going to give up being a prefect…" Ron frowned, looking at Harry jealously, "You don't need to lie, you know. If you two are dating…"  
"We're not." Harry said firmly, "I…" he stopped himself a moment, a vacant look entering his eyes, "I couldn't date her even if I wanted to right now…Hermione is…helping me with a really serious problem I have. I can't tell you more than that right now. I swear I'll tell you everything later…but not now. I'm sorry I'm leaving you in the dark like this, Ron. You're a good friend, putting up with that…just…know that I'm not doing this by choice, okay?"

Ron looked him over. After a speech like that...he believed Harry when he said he and Hermione weren't dating. But his heart clenched and he knew that whatever was going on…it was big.

"Harry, mate." Ron said, causing Harry to look up and meet his eyes, "I will be there for you. No matter what. You can count on me. And I'm a prefect now, so…well, I know Hermione told me not to abuse my privileges, but if there's anything you need…"

"I'll come to you." Harry finished for him, feeling a bit bad about lying to Ron now that he was finally getting a better feel for his character. He was a good guy. A good friend.

He smiled a bit to himself. He was happy he had people like around him, and one day, he was going to remember them all.

His eyes went blank as a memory suddenly overtook him

"_I see myself…" Ron stood in front of a tall mirror with a gold border, "People are cheering…I'm captain of the Quidditch team and…we've just won the cup!"_

Harry broke from the memory and smiled,

"Now all you need to do is become captain of the Quidditch team, right?"

Ron chuckled at that,

"I'm pretty sure that's going to be you, Harry."  
"I don't know…" Harry shook his head, still not sure about his own Quidditch skills, "You're a mad chess player, that usually indicates someone good with planning. Isn't that what a captain's supposed to do? In that area, you've got me beat bad."

Ron smiled at this,

"Well, just to be sure, wanna play a game?"

Harry was happy to finally make it through the rest of his school assignments, just in time for school to start up. As they boarded the Hogwarts express the next morning, Ron broke off from them to head to the Prefects' car, a little upset that he wouldn't be ridding with his two best friends.

Harry, Hermione and Ginny headed off together.

"Hey, Neville!" Ginny called over a round-faced boy, holding a rather exotic looking plant in his hands, "You looking for a compartment too?"

"Um, yeah." Neville admitted.

Harry didn't recognise him, but Hermione seemed to.

"I think there are more free ones further down this way." Hermione offered, pointing down the car, "Usually these ones are the last to be filled."

She knocked on a compartment. Not hearing anything from inside, she opened it up only to give a bit of a start. There was a girl inside with dirty blond hair. Her wand was placed behind her ear, which was decorated with a radish ear ring, and she appeared to be reading a magazine upside down.

She looked up at them, her eyes were wide and grey and her eyebrows were a little more raised than most, giving her a look of permanent surprise.

"Oh, sorry." Hermione apologised, "We didn't know anyone else was here…"  
"Hey, Luna." Ginny interrupted her, "You mind if we share a compartment? Everywhere else is full."

Luna nodded,

"Go ahead." She offered.

They all felt a bit relieved at this, Harry and Hermione sat beside each other, while Neville sat to Harry's other side and Ginny sat across from them, beside Luna.

"Why are you reading that upside down?" Hermione inquired.

Luna looked up at her, blinking,

"The Quibbler has rune puzzles every week." She turned the magazine over for Hermione to see, "See, the ruins are all done upside down."  
"Oh." Hermione blinked, looking at the puzzle curiously. The Prophet didn't have puzzles like those…

"Have a good summer, Luna?" Ginny asked the girl.

"Yes, it was quite enjoyable." There was a dream-like quality to her voice, not dissimilar to Harry's voice after his amnesia. Speaking of which, her attention appeared to be focused on Harry, "You're Harry Potter."

"Yes, I am." Harry agreed, and he got the sense that he had never met this girl before, otherwise she wouldn't be so startled by her conclusion.

"And I don't know who you are." She said, looking over at Neville.

"I'm nobody." Neville said quickly.

"You too?" Harry smiled, catching everyone's attention.

Hermione looked at Harry oddly.

"It's a poem." Harry defended, then blinked, wondering exactly how he knew that, "By Emily Dickinson."

At their blank faces, Harry furrowed his brow and started,

"_I'm Nobody! Who are you?_

_Are you – Nobody – too?_

_Then there's a pair of us!_

_Don't tell! they'd advertise – you know!_"

"Who'd advertise?" Luna looked intrigued.

"It's just a poem." Harry said quickly, then frowned at what he'd said. Something told him that it was far more than just a poem. That it was important. But he couldn't place why it was important.

"Well, anyways," Ginny gave Harry an odd look, before turning her attention back to Neville, "You're not nobody. Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood." She introduced.

Harry had to wince a bit, Neville sure had an unfortunate name…

"Luna's in my year, but in Ravenclaw." Ginny explained to the three of them.

Ah, so he didn't know this girl after all, Harry thought to himself with some relief. At least that was someone, save for Hermione that he didn't have to pretend to remember and put a front up for.

"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure." Luna said in a singsong voice.

"Is that a house saying?" Harry wondered before he could stop himself. He mentally hit himself. If it was a house saying, then he ought to know it…probably.

"No," Luna said, "It's something Rowena Ravenclaw said long ago."

Harry looked thoughtful, before something came to him,

"Destiny will start for those with bravery in their hearts."

Luna smiled at this, perking up considerably,

"Loyalty for all the world's royalty."

Harry matched her expression,

"While Sly and cunning keep one in the running."  
The other occupants watched the two go back and forth with confusion on their faces.

"I quite enjoyed your first one…" Luna began as though she were about to break some rather bad news to him.

Harry nodded, his face rather sober,

"It did fall apart in the end there, didn't it?"

Ginny frowned,

"Do you two already know each other?"

Both Luna and Harry looked up at her, this time they were the ones to give her the odd looks.

"Of course not." Luna said, "You just introduced us, remember?"

Ginny nearly blanched at that and couldn't help a swell of jealousy over the fact that Harry and Luna had clicked so easily. She quickly tried to distract herself, eyes landing on the plant Neville was carrying,

"What's that, Neville?" She inquired.

It looked much like a cactus.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia." Neville brightened, "It's got an absolutely fascinating defensive mechanism, you just have to…"  
"Neville don't!" Hermione shouted, but it was too late.

Bright colored, sticky goo exploded all over the compartment. Harry crinkled his nose, and wiped some of the stuff from out of his hair. He blinked curiously,

"Fascinating." He said, in a somewhat distant voice.

Hermione blanched at Harry's care-free attitude and was about to say something, when their compartment door opened, revealing an Asian girl with long, dark hair. She was really quite beautiful, Harry thought to himself upon seeing her.

"Hey, Harry." The girl shifted awkwardly, "Bad time?"

Harry laughed a bit at the situation,

"Well, it could have been better, I suppose. Neville was just showing us his Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Apparently, it has a rather fascinating defensive mechanism."

The girl lost all sense of awkwardness and laughed a bit on what she'd walked in on. Neville blushed a bit.

"Scourgify." Harry waved his wand, clearing the goo away.

"Did you need something from Harry, Cho?" Hermione asked, making sure to use her name so that Harry knew exactly who she was.

They'd talked a bit about Cho, Harry's crush from before he'd lost his memories.

"I just…wanted to talk to him a bit about Cedric." She said, looking down, then back up at Hermione, "Are you two…dating?"

"No." Hermione shook her head, then looked at Harry worriedly, "But…"

"It's fine." Harry said, giving Hermione an awkward smile, then looking back at Cho.

How exactly was he going to deal with this girl? She wanted closure over her boyfriend's death. Closure that he couldn't give right now because he couldn't remember her, or Cedric.

Cedric Diggory…maybe if he saw the boy's picture somewhere…maybe he could remember. Something about seeing this girl sad made him feel like his heart was about to break into a million pieces.

"Would you like to sit with us?" Harry offered, coming to a decision, "I…don't think I knew Cedric all that well at all. Could you tell me a bit about him?"  
Cho looked a bit surprised at the strange turn and gave a nod,

"If…if that's okay?"

Hermione looked a bit weary, but gave a nod anyways. Cho sat down directly across from Harry and started her story,

"Cedric was…an amazing guy. You already know he was in Hufflepuff, seeker on the Quidditch team and all that, but his favourite subject was transfiguration." Cho smiled, "He told me not to tell Sprout, you know since she's the head of house and all…They had a good relationship though. After Cedric's mom died, Sprout became almost like a surrogate mother to him sort of…" She went on to tell Harry all she knew of Cedric. Everything, from his many different smiles, all which meant different things, to the way he teased her before they had started dating.

Harry couldn't help but smile every now and then.

"He sounded like a good guy." Harry said softly, "I considered him a friend, but…there was too much I didn't know about him." And he still felt like he knew absolutely nothing. No memories had been rattled off.

"Voldemort ordered a man named Peter Pettigrew to kill Cedric." Harry said in a quiet voice.

Cho frowned, looking confused,

"Pettigrew…"  
Harry nodded, then started telling her about third year, recalling all that Hermione had told him, though his version was certainly not as wordy as hers. Cho's eyes widened as she listened to the tale, rather shocked and amazed.

"So…Sirius Black is innocent, then?"

Harry gave a nod,

"The man who murdered him…Voldemort's right hand, I suppose, Peter Pettigrew. The man who betrayed my parents." Harry paused, a thought occurring to him, "Are you mad at me?"

Cho looked surprised,

"Mad at you?"

Harry swallowed,

"I mean…I had a chance in third year to kill him."  
Hermione drew in a sharp breath.

"I didn't." Harry said.

"I'm not mad at you for that." Cho said quickly, eyes a bit wide at his conclusion, "I hadn't known…I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to…from the way Hermione's been watching us, I'd say all this was a secret. I won't say a thing, just…thank you, Harry. Thank you for telling me."  
Harry let out a sigh, then looked down, lost in thought. Cho, knitted her brow in concern,

"Harry…is something wrong?" She asked him, "You're acting…different. Your eyes look more distant and…" well, she couldn't really explain it.

Harry gave her a small half-smile,  
"I'll be fine, thanks, Cho."

Then, to her surprise, Harry's eyes went completely blank.

_A girl was ridding the wind on a broom. Her eyes looked off to the sky and her blue and bronze quidditch robes were ruffled in the breeze. She looked so free, Harry thought._

_It must be nice, he watched the sun touch her face, to be free like that. To completely be yourself…_

"Harry?" Cho's voice brought him back.

He smiled at her,

"I just remembered something." Harry admitted and Hermione drew in a sharp breath.

Harry knew now, he remembered why he liked this girl so much and it had nothing to do with the fact that they both enjoyed quidditch, nor with the fact that they were both seekers. Cho looked at Hermione questioningly, but before she could speak, the door to their compartment was opened.

A boy with blond hair and sharp features looked at them with a sort of malicious gleam in his grey eyes. Accompanying him were to rather large boys who looked far too old to be in Hogwarts. More like thugs, Harry thought to himself.

"Malfoy." Hermione said slowly, making sure to use his name so that Harry knew exactly who it was that had entered once again.

"Manners, Granger!" he said smugly, "Or I'll have you expelled. You see, I, unlike you, have been made prefect."  
"Hermione was made prefect." Harry interrupted, "But she turned the position down. It's not really that big a deal, you know."

Malfoy blinked at the sudden rebuke, and a bit confused,

"And here I thought…"  
"Why are you here?" Harry asked him, tilting his head to the side, "You obviously don't like us? Why bother?"  
"Watch your mouth, Potter!"  
"Oh, I get it." Harry said, "You've got a crush on me."

Nearly everyone in the compartment looked like they were choking on something…accept Luna. Malfoy's face turned bright red. Luna looked up at them, her expression turned to realization,

"That makes so much sense! I always did wonder why he kept watching you…" Luna trailed off as though she had just uncovered the answer to everything and all the world was now at peace.

"In your dreams, Potter!" Malfoy shouted.

"Me thinks the lady doth protest too much." Harry said innocently, "I'm sorry, I'm not interested."

"Harry…" Meli said amusedly in the boy's ear, "You really have gained a mischievous side to you, haven't you?" he hadn't been that way when they'd first met.

Harry didn't respond, though he usually didn't to what Meli said when they were around other people.

Malfoy's face was turning bright red with anger.  
"Careful, Malfoy." Harry warned, "You have to handle yourself with a certain sense of maturity now. No more bullying me for a date."

Malfoy's mouth fell open, like he wanted to say something…but couldn't. Harry got up from his seat, then walked towards him. Malfoy took a few steps back.  
This…wasn't the way Potter was supposed to act, he thought to himself. And then, the door was slammed in his face and Malfoy realized that he and his goons were standing in the hallways.

Scowling, Malfoy made a gesture with his hand,

"Let's go."

Thankfully, Crabbe and Goyle probably didn't have a clue as to what had just happened and both boys followed behind their leader.


	10. Chapter 10

**This chapter is a shorter one. Let's face it, the length is going to be off no matter what (sigh).**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

Harry sat back down in the compartment, letting out a sigh. Hermione looked at Harry oddly,

"That…was certainly an interesting way of handling Malfoy." She commented lightly.

A wide smile spread over Neville's lips,

"That was hilarious! Did you see his face?" he laughed at that and Luna joined in, wiping tears from her eyes.

Cho actually joined along after a moment. Harry smiled and gave a shrug,

"Just calling it as I see it."

The compartment door opened and Ron was standing at the door, looking confused,

"What's going on?" he asked them, "I just saw Malfoy coming from this direction. Did something happen?"

They all burst into laughter again in response. Hermione was the one to retell the events to Ron who looked absolutely dumbstruck, then started laughing along with them.

"Brilliant, mate." He said, sitting down beside Harry.

Ron started talking about the prefects' meeting and how Malfoy and Parkinson had been made Slytherin Prefects, while he and Lavender Brown had been made Gryffindor prefects.

As the train continued on north, it started spitting rain. It was dark out and difficult to see anything outside the window, though not for lack of trying on Luna's part as she often pressed her face against the glass, trying to catch a glimpse of the school.

"We should get changed." Hermione said after a while.

They all agreed to this. The boys all left to give the girl's privacy as they changed first. Then it was Harry, Ron and Neville's turn to change.

"You aren't going to run off to the bathroom to change?" Ron asked Harry curiously.

"Hm? Um, no." Harry said.

Was that what he normally did?

"Right, you always have the curtains drawn when you change in the dorms." Neville recalled, then looked at Ron, "He does that on the train too? That's weird."

"Well, sorry for liking my privacy." Harry huffed, though he was secretly a bit worried.

Was this yet another secret he was keeping from people? If so, what sort of secret was it? Was he ashamed of his body? He thought back to the times he'd changed before on his own and had to say he was actually in rather good shape. He was a bit skinny, but it wasn't embarrassing skinny, and Ron was skinnier than him.

Hermione looked at Harry with some concern once again, thinking back on all the secrets she'd learned so far about Harry that she hadn't known before.

Much like Harry, she had started keeping track as well with questions she didn't know how to answer or hadn't thought to ask before.

"If you'd rather I leave…" Harry trailed off.

"It's fine, mate." Ron shrugged, getting into the compartment with Harry.

Neville just shrugged, neither of them had ever really thought much on Harry's need for privacy when he changed. It wasn't like they didn't understand it, they'd just never really thought anything of it.

Neville closed the doors behind them, leaving the girls in the hall.

Harry took off his black jacket, then his shirt, revealing some rather prominent muscles underneath and a few scars.

Ron stopped and blinked,

"What the bloody hell!? How are you so ripped?"

Harry blinked, looking down at his body,

"I wouldn't say I'm ripped…" he felt a wave of embarrassment overtake him. Ron and Neville certainly didn't have the muscles he did. But then again, they didn't really work out the way he did.

Harry blinked. Worked out? He worked out?

His eyes went blank momentarily,

_He was being picked on by Dudley and his gang. They'd been playing a game of Harry hunting, and they'd finally caught up to him, forcing him to the ground and kicking and pounding him. Harry curled up into a ball, hoping to be able to protect himself._

"_Whoa, whoa, whoa! What do you boys think you're doing!"  
"Crap! Scatter!" Dudley ordered and the gang parted, running away as they always did when they were caught by an adult._

_Harry felt a hand on his back,_

"_Hey…" it was a man and he seemed very gentle, "Are you alright? Where do you hurt?"_

_Harry had never been treated with this sort of kindness before. He wasn't used to it. So, he went for his go-to response.  
"I'm fine." He sat up._

_His ribs were aching and his muscles protested against the movement. He caught a glimpse of his saviour's face. He was Asian, with crinkles beneath his eyes, giving him the impression that he smiled a lot._

"_My name is Ren." He introduced, "Ren Tatsuya. What's your name?"_

"_Harry." Harry answered, "Harry Potter." He found the introduction rather peculiar, but he got a strange feeling that this man was very kind._

"_I'm starting up a dojo. Do you attend the school over down that way?"  
Harry gave a nod._

"_My dojo is right next door. Right there." He pointed._

"_What's a dojo?" Harry asked him curiously, never having heard the term before._

"_A studio used for martial arts practice." He explained, "I teach both kyudo and aikido." He had a strange twinkle in his eyes, "I bought the property when I came here to teach. Would you like me to teach you how to defend yourself?"  
Harry gave great pause, before his lips thinned,_

"_I…If I hurt my cousin, my aunt and uncle will punish me." He shook his head fearfully at that._

_The man's eyebrows knitted together, but there was a sparkle there, as though a suspicion of his had been confirmed._

"_That is why you do not fight back, correct? In that case, why don't I teach you how to defend yourself without hurting your cousin?"  
Harry paused once again,_

"_How is that possible?"_

_And the man explained._

Why did I try to keep that a secret? Harry thought to himself. Now that he thought of it, he could take Ron down if he wanted to. It wouldn't take much effort at all.

He spent his summers at a dojo, Harry remembered now, and he ate there sometimes with the teacher. Probably why he wasn't malnourished, considering the diet the Dursleys had him on during his stay there.

Should he tell Hermione?

If Ron didn't know, then she probably didn't either. Why was he keeping secrets from his friends? Why was it so important that no one know?

"Mate? You alright?" Ron asked him, snapping Harry from his thoughts.

"Yeah…" Harry said, "Just thinking…" he slipped on his robes over his head, then pulled his pants off. He certainly wasn't going to reveal anything more after that stunned reaction.

So, he had muscle. Big deal, right?

They unleaded from the train, heading off towards, what Hermione had described as horseless carriages. Only, there were definitely horses drawing those carriages.

Skeletal horses, thin as rails, black with scales and big, leathery wings.

"What are those?" Harry asked out loud.

Hermione looked at him then looked over at where he was looking,

"The horseless carriages…" She said slowly.

"Not the carriages." Harry shook his head, "The things drawing the carriages."  
"There are no things drawing the carriages." Cho told him oddly.

"They're thestrals."  
It was Luna that had spoken up. Hemione looked doubtful, however. Luna had been recounting many tales of mythical creatures that people couldn't see throughout the ride, and Harry had drunk in the information like a parched sponge. She would have to talk to him later to tell him none of those things were real…

"Thestrals can only be see by those that have seen death." Luna said sadly, "I see them too…"  
"They're really there, 'Mione." Harry said absently, staring at the creatures curiously and wondering if he could always see them or if this was a new development. Another secret he had hidden? It was getting tough to keep track.

Harry got into a carriage with Hermione, Luna and Cho, while Ron went off with Neville and Ginny in a separate carriage.

"You certainly look like you're thinking hard on something." Luna twisted her face to try to match his expression, "Do you mind sharing so that we can think hard on it too?"

Harry's lips twitched, until he started laughing,

"Just thinking about the thestrals, is all."

"Oh." Luna's expression changed to one of contemplation, "I think in order to see them you need to have an understanding of the death you witnessed, but I could be wrong. There aren't a lot of studies done on the subject."

"I see." Harry said thoughtfully, but there was a hint of something on his face that none of them could read.


	11. Chapter 11

**My, oh my, what will Harry discover this time?  
I do not own Harry Potter.**

After the hat had finished signing (since when do hat's sing? Harry wondered) the little eleven-year-old first years went up to the stool one by one to be sorted. Harry watched on with fascination.

Is it reading their minds? Harry wondered, then looked over at Hermione.

"'Mione." He whispered.

"Mm?" she asked as she clapped for a girl that had just gone to join Gryffindor.

"The hat…how does it sort them?"  
"How?" Hermione frowned.

"Do you think it looks at their memories or…" Harry trailed off, mind racing with possibilities.

Hermione's eyes widened, understanding where he was going with this. She smacked her own head with the palm of her hand. Why hadn't she thought of that?

The last student, a girl by the name, "Zeller, Rose" went to Hufflepuff.

They all clapped for the end of the ceremony before Dumbledore stood up.

"To our newcomers, welcome!" the headmaster announced, voice ringing through the hall, "To our old hands, welcome back! Now, there is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!" Food appeared on their plates and Harry got up from his table.

"Wait! Harry!" Hermione hissed, getting up and going after him.  
Ron gave the two of them an odd look as they approached the teacher's table. Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the peculiar behaviour,

"Harry? Is there something you need?"

Harry bit his lower lip,

"I was wondering if I might be able to talk to the sorting hat later."

All the teachers looked over at Harry with confusion.

"The sorting hat?" Sprout repeated, finding it a very strange request.

The headmaster raised an eyebrow with intrigue,

"Might I ask what this is about, Harry?" why the sorting hat of all things?

"I lost something…a while back and I'm hoping the sorting hat might know how to retrieve it." It wasn't a lie, Harry thought and the headmaster seemed to realize this as well.

He looked over his half-mooned glasses at Harry, eyes still twinkling with curiosity,

"I see no reason to say no…Would you and Miss Granger like to stay back after the feast?"

Harry looked over at Hermione who gave a nod after some thought.

"Alright." Harry agreed verbally.

The headmaster nodded and Harry took this to be a dismissal as the two made their way back to their seats. Ron was looking at them strangely,

"What did you two ask him?"

"We want to know more about the sorting hat." Hermione said simply.

"The sorting hat?" Ron murmured, wondering why they would want to know more about that of all things…

As the students finished their dinner and were finishing up their desert, the noise level began to rise again. Seeing this, Dumbledore stood up once more and the hall instantly slipped into silence.

"Well, now that we've all digested another magnificent meal, I beg a few moments of your attention for the start-of-term announcements. First years ought to know the forest on the grounds is out of bounds to students."  
The forest? Harry thought, eyes dimming slightly. He felt like he was right on the verge of remembering something.

"And a few of our older students ought to know by now too." Dumbledore added in and Harry noticed he was looking over at the Weasley twins who were smirking to themselves, obviously proud of whatever it was they had done.

"Mister Filch, the caretaker has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty second time, to remind you all that magic is not to be performed in the corridors between classes. As are a number of other things, all of which can now be checked on the now extensive list fastened to Mister Filch's office door."  
Harry tilted his head at that, and looked at Hermione,

"Where's Mister Filch's office?"

Hermione gave him an odd look at the question, before it dawned on her that she had no idea.

"We have two changes in staff this year." The headmaster continued, "We are pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank who will be taking over for Care of Magical Creatures lessons. We are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Tryouts for Quidditch will begin –" he broke off, looking over at Professor Umbridge inquiringly.

It took Harry a moment to realize the woman had risen from her seat. She looked just about the same height sitting down as she did standing up.

"_Hem hem." _They heard her say. By now it was clear to the confused masses that the woman was on her feet and wanted to say something…or she just wanted a cough drop, Harry thought to himself with a bit of humour.

Surprise briefly crossed Dumbledore's face before he sat down and focused all his attention on her, as though there was nothing more in the world he would rather do than listen to her make a speech. Professor Sprout, that was what Hermione had called her, Harry recalled, Professor Sprout's eyebrows had risen into her bangs, while Professor McGonagall, the favourite teacher Hermione had pointed out to him before, her lips had thinned into a line.

Harry quickly drew the conclusion that this had never happened before, someone interrupting Dumbledore's speech, and found himself rather curious. The woman looked rather familiar to him, hadn't she been at his trial?

That warranted enough suspicion on its own.

Umbridge cleared her throat again, "_Hem, hem_." Then continued, "Well, it's certainly lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing pointy teeth, "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me."  
Harry tilted his head to the side, then leaned back in his chair. There was something wrong with this picture…

"I am very much looking forwards to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll all be great friends!"

Doubtful, Harry thought, eyes narrowing at the woman and gaining a sharp edge. Hermione turned to look at him and her eyebrows flew up to her hairline. She'd never seen that sort of expression on Harry's face before. That calculating edge that seemed almost natural, despite it not being a familiar expression.

She looked back over at Umbridge who had gone on with her speech. Hermione drank it all in, realizing what was happening and why Harry was so focused on her. Most everyone else had nearly gone to sleep or had started playing games with their forks.

When the speech ended, Dumbledore clapped for her enthusiastically, and the other teachers joined in. Some of the students started doing so hesitantly, but stopped almost immediately as their peers seemed to startle awake, realizing the speech had ended. Before any full-blown fake applause could get underway, Dumbledore stood up again,

"Thank you, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating."

"It certainly was." Hermione murmured, catching Ron's attention.

"What!?" The red head said, "You can't tell me you actually enjoyed that. That was the dullest speech I've ever heard, and I grew up with Percy!"  
Harry cracked a smile,

"I don't think any of us enjoyed it. Hermione means that, if you read between the lines, there were some important points in there."  
"Was there?" Ron looked at Harry blankly.

Harry gave a nod,

"Like the part about her 'wanting to get things back on track, the way she wants it' and such. To put it bluntly, it means the Ministry's interfering at Hogwarts."  
"I reached the same conclusion." Hermione agreed darkly.

Before the conversation could go any further, there was a great clamoring, indicating that the students had all gotten up to leave and Dumbledore had dismissed them.

"Ron," Hermione said, "You're a prefect! You need to show the first years to the dorms."

"Oh…oh right!" Ron realized, "Oy…oy, you lot! Midgets!"  
"Ron!" Hermione shouted.

"Well they are, they're titchy…"

"You can't say that! First years! First years!" Hermione called the first years over to Ron, "There, now it's your responsibility. Get to work, Mister Prefect."

"Alright, I got this." Ron said, then started leading them from the hall.

Hermione let out a sigh,

"Honestly…" she shook her head, then turned back to Harry, "Ready to talk to the sorting hat?"  
Harry gave a determined nod,

"I think…whatever is going on, it goes back before my time at Hogwarts."

Hermione gave a nod of agreement and offered him an encouraging smile,

"I want to know too, Harry. You're my best friend and the fact that I don't really seem to know you…it scares me a bit. I'm not blaming you." She said quickly at Harry's guilty look, "I think that you had your reasons, whatever they might have been. Just know that no matter what, I'm with you."

Harry's face relaxed into a smile and he felt a strange feeling of freedom, like a warm glow of light.

"Thanks, Hermione. Whatever it is…I'll remember that."

"Come on." She said as the hall was nearly empty now.

He followed after her and the two made their way over to the teacher's table. The hat was seated on the stool now off to the side. Some of the teachers watched Harry and Hermione curiously.

"Sorting hat," Hermione roused it from it's nap.

The hat let out a groan and seemed to awaken from it's nap,

"What is it, child?" it inquired, "I do believe the sorting is over, is it not?"

"It is." Hermione confirmed, "But Harry and I wanted to ask you a few questions."

The hat raised a flap of fabric over the folds that made its eyes. Harry figured it was the hat's equivalent to human intrigue expression wise.

"And what is it you wish to ask me?" it didn't often get asked questions by the students.

"How do you judge where the first years go?" Harry asked it, "You look into their minds, right? But which part? Do you see their memories? Or is it something else? How do you measure their traits?"  
The hat looked surprised at his inquiry,

"With all those questions you're asking, Mister Potter, I suppose I should have put more serious thought into putting you into Ravenclaw…though I do find it rather odd…considering we've had this conversation before."

"Pretend he didn't ask you before." Hermione told the hat, "We already know you answered, but please…"  
The hat paused a moment,

"Very well, I will say the same thing I told Mister Potter back then. I do look into the memories of the children. I need to get a feel for how they will react to different situations. I see everything they remember, everything they've learned. But I can't reveal a thing after I've sorted them, not a single memory."  
Harry bit his lip, eyes dimming slightly with thought,

"Sorting hat, I think…I think you might be able to help me solve a problem I've been having. Do you mind if I put you on so that we can speak in private?" he asked, noticing that the teachers had been watching them curiously.

"Very well." The hat said, "It's not like I have anywhere to be."

Harry's lips twitched,

"Thank you." He said, then lifted the hat off the stool, sitting down and placing it over his head. It didn't fall down over his eyes as it did with the first years. But he did close his eyes, just on instinct.

The hat hummed,

"Oh dear, this certainly isn't good, Mister Potter…" he said inside his head, "You've lost all your memories from birth and up until the moment you met those dementors…Yes, I see why you wished to see me now. But I'm afraid I can only tell you about your life up to the point I sorted you."  
"That's fine." Harry spoke out loud, "That's actually very helpful."  
"You can just think your answer, Mister Potter." The hat said amusedly, "You did wish for a private consultation, did you not?"  
"Yes…" Harry thought to the hat.

"Very well…You were possibly one of the most complicated and most intriguing children I had ever had the delight of sorting. A good mind that would have certainly done well in Ravenclaw. I see that more prominently now…it bothers me that I didn't consider that option more seriously. I originally wished to put you in Slytherin.

A memory flashed before Harry's eyes,

"_Not Slytherin, not Slytherin…"_ _he repeated in his head over and over and over again. It was obviously frustrating the hat who argued,_

"_Not Slytherin? You're sure? You would be great in Slytherin…"_

Harry's eyes flashed open in shock. The hat had wanted to put him into Slytherin?

"Indeed, Mister Potter." The hat spoke in his head, "You would have been great in Slytherin…far greater than anyone in there today." It grumbled the last part, "But back to your memories…let's start with the one you most recently got back, the man, Ren Tatsuya. You never did wonder, did you? Why you were so well adjusted considering the abuse you went through?"

Harry swallowed hard, a bit afraid. But he needed to know.

"And that is why I placed you in Gryffindor." The hat said proud with its self, "Ren Tatsuya was an instructor in Aikido and Kyudo, Japanese archery. He taught you to defend yourself from your cousin without hurting him. It was enough to scare him off or get away if you needed to. Tatsuya called on child services several times but this only served to anger the Dursleys and make things worse. It was his word against the rest of Private Drive, after all."  
Harry grimaced at that. He could imagine something like that happening.

"You spent most of your time, from the moment you were six years old, until Hogwarts with Ren Tatsuya who gave you free lessons. You thought of him as a father and he thought of you as a son, I could tell from the memories. Then came Hogwarts and you figured something out. Voldemort was alive, and you knew he'd be coming after you, so you thought up a plan, a plan worthy of Salazar's house, and only at age eleven. I knew you were a Slytherin, that's where I wanted you to go, but you argued against it. Going to Slytherin would never fit in with your plan, after all."  
"What was the plan?" Harry needed to know. He'd hurt his friends, so he needed to know why.

"To create a persona, a front for people to see. It would involve a lot of lying, acting, and deceit."  
"Why did I do that?" Harry asked it quietly.

"You weren't stupid, Mister Potter, far from it. You knew there was a war coming, and you knew that if it was anything like the last one that people would die. So, you locked away your heart somewhere deep inside you. You didn't want to grow too attached to anyone, because you knew that they could die if they were ever too close to you."

Harry swallowed hard, clenching the bottom of his seat with horror.

"And this way, you could begin your own investigation into how Voldemort had survived that night, and take measures to reverse what he had done to himself. You didn't want to start a panic though, and with a war looming, you had no way of telling who to trust and who not to trust. You didn't know if Dumbledore knew of your abuse, so you didn't trust him, he had been the one to place you with those people, after all. Your plan was to hide your intelligence, your personality, and your heart, until the war was over…Though it seems you've hit a bit of a snag, Mister Potter." The hat's voice had started to sound almost mocking, "I told you before and I'll tell you again, the heart has no metrics or means of measure…That's why I placed you in Gryffindor, those most known for wearing their hearts on their sleeves. It seems you're already learning. You're not nearly as stone cold as you were back then…but perhaps that's Miss Granger's doing." The hat paused, "If I were to sort you now…I'd place you in Ravenclaw." He commented.

"Oh…" Harry said out loud, then took the hat off with a heavy feeling in his heart.

"Harry?" Hermione asked him worriedly.

"I got some answers." Harry said softly.

"But they weren't the ones you were looking for." Hermione said with understanding, "Come on." She took the hat off his head, "Let's go to the common room, it's getting late."  
Harry nodded, not saying a word as Hermione led him from the great hall. The teachers all watched the two of them leave together.

"What was that about?" McGonagall asked Dumbledore. She'd heard Harry had been acting strangely, but after getting Hermione's letter turning down the position of prefect…well, she'd say he certainly wasn't the only one.

"I don't know…" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with curiosity.


	12. Chapter 12

**The drama continues! So, should this be a Harry x Hermione fic? A Harry x Cho fic? Or maybe a Harry x Luna fic?**

**I did write a lot of this story, but I never wrote an ending. I also never figured it all out. I still have a few more chapters though before I catch up to where I was before, and a lot of stuff happens between these characters. I think that this Harry Potter has a goofy side and Luna brings that side of him out nicely. That's something he needs. But Harry has always been drawn to Cho, and for a good reason. In this story, Harry's attraction to Cho isn't just skin deep. He admires her spirit. I think that's a good reason for him to end up with her. As for Hermione, she's his best friend who has stuck by him through so much. In my opinion, Harry should have wound up with Hermione in the books. It would have made more sense. It's not that I dislike Ginny, I just…don't get the relationship there. But some people are a fan of it, and that's fine.**

**I think I originally planned for Ginny to be a possibility in this story too, but she kind of just floated to the background.**

**I do not own Harry Potter.**

"Hermione," Harry stopped her as they were mid-way up the staircase, "I…I did something horrible." He felt his stomach give a lurch.

How could he have done that to her? How could he have done that when she had done so much for him?

"What?" Hermione asked him, "What did you do?"

Harry swallowed hard,

"The hat…it said when I got to Hogwarts that I was stone cold, that I had created a…persona. I lied to you and Ron. I don't think I want my memories back. Not if it means becoming that person again." He shook at the admission and Hermione placed a hand on his arm.

"Then don't."

Harry looked up at her suddenly.

"Harry, I don't think your nature is that stone cold…whoever it was you were before. You're you, memories or not and you know what? You're a lot like this person…this 'persona' you created, whether you know it or not." Hermione looked at him seriously, "I can't believe that everything we went through was a lie. I can't. I won't. Remember, the hat can only tell you your life up until you were sorted, it can't tell you who you became after."

Harry nodded, a bit of hope spreading through his chest. His eyes went blank a moment.

_Hermione was lying in a hospital bed. Her eyes were blank and her skin was as cold as stone. He felt anger swelling inside him. Whoever did this…they were going to pay. He turned around and walked out of the hospital wing._

Harry blinked,

"I remembered something…you were in the hospital wing and I…was sitting by your bed. I felt so angry…then I got up and left." He looked confused, "What happened?" he looked at Hermione questioningly.

"The Chamber of Secrets." She explained, "I think I know what happened. I'll tell you what happened later." She decided.

Harry gave a nod, letting her lead him towards Gryffindor tower.

"Harry," Hermione said, "The boy's dorm is on the left, the girls are on the right. I'll meet you in the common room in the morning at seven o'clock, alright?"

Harry nodded,

"Alright." He agreed.

"Password?" The portrait asked them, causing them both to jump.

"Um…Mimbulus Mimbletonia." Hermione recalled hesitantly. Harry gave her a look,

"Seriously?"  
Hermione shrugged, acknowledging the irony. The portrait swung open and the two entered the Gryffindor common room.

Harry's thoughts were awhirl as they separated into their own dorms. He let out a sigh, seeing two boys talking. He didn't recognise them, but he probably knew them. He really wished he had Hermione with him right now to tell him who they were…maybe he could sneak pass them and get changed quickly…

"Hey, Harry."

Or maybe not.

"Hey, how was your summer?" Harry asked them right away, it seemed like a good go-to question when you didn't remember peoples' names.

"It was alright." The boy with dark skin, dark eyes and a rather long neck said awkwardly, "Well, better than Seamus's."

Assuming Seamus was the boy he had been speaking to, do to the glances he was giving, Harry took the bait and asked,

"Why? What happened?"

Seamus looked down ashamedly,

"Me m'am didn't want me to come back to Hogwarts."

"Why not?" Harry asked confusedly.

Seamus fidgeted,

"Well…it's because of you…and Dumbledore."  
Realization dawned on Harry,

"Oh, so…she believes the Prophet, then."

"Well…yeah." He obviously didn't want to talk about it.

Harry didn't really know what to say about that,

"Alright then." He decided.

"Alright?" Seamus looked confused, "You aren't angry?"

"Why would I be angry?" Harry shrugged, "It's stupid to get worked up over something like that…and I'm too tired right now to really think about it." He gave a weak smile, "Sorry guys, I'm just going to go to sleep for now."  
Seamus and the other boy looked at each other. The response was…out of character for Harry.

"Alright," Seamus said slowly, "'Night then, Harry."

"Good night." Harry said, before finding his trunk sitting at the foot of a bed and taking out his pyjamas.

He really was tired…

The next day, Harry met with Hermione and Ron outside of the dorms in the common room.

Breakfast was rather normal, Angelina Johnson came over to inform Harry of her promotion to team captain. Harry congratulated her (though he had no real clue as to what she was captain of until she started talking about Quidditch). Hermione made a note to talk to Harry about Quidditch later (something she thought she'd never make a note of) so that they could go over who his team mates were and what their roles were. She'd been to some of his practices and knew a few of the exercises he did.

Professor McGonagall moved down the table, handing out schedules. She gave Harry his schedule, then handed Hermione her own before moving on to Ron.

Ron took one look at it and grimaced. Once McGonagall had moved on he started complaining about the rotten schedule for their Monday class.

Harry looked down at it, noting Defense Against the Dark Arts was on there, but saw nothing wrong with the other subjects…yet. He knew he was missing something here.

The twins, Fred and George teased the younger students about their joke shop ideas, hinting at a mysterious benefactor, which Hermione and Ron puzzled over for some time.

Fred and George both shot Harry a strange look for some reason, before going off somewhere.

"What was that about?" Harry whispered to himself.

The first class was History of Magic which was spent talking about what they wanted to be when they were out of school.

"Well, it would be cool to be an auror." Ron admitted.

Aurors were magical cops, Harry recalled. It was a good dream, he thought to himself, and also somewhat ambitious. But then again, Ron had made prefect.

"But they're like, the elite." He continued wistfully, "You have to be really good. What about you guys? Harry? Hermione?"  
Harry thought on this,

"I don't really think I know myself well enough to make a decision." He admitted.

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look, knowing there was a double meaning there that only she was meant to pick up on. She couldn't offer any help though. Not in this case. Even she had to admit that she hadn't really known Harry as well as she'd thought she had. It hurt a bit knowing this, but those were the facts.

"I don't know…" Hermione said, "I suppose I would really want to do something worth while…"  
"Being an auror is worth while." Ron protested.

"I'm not saying it's not." Hermione said, "I mean, if I could take S.P.E.W. further…"

Ron went silent at that, not wanting to hear her rant on about spew again. Harry didn't particularly mind, but he was mostly silent lately and zoning out, so Hermione simply dropped it, realizing she wasn't going to be getting much from either of them at the moment.

History of magic was hopelessly boring. The only thing interesting about it might have been that it was taught by a ghost, but even that lost its triviality after a minute of listening to Professor Binns's droning voice.

Harry tried his best to stay asleep and take notes, much to Ron's utter befuddlement.

He still let out a sigh of relief when it was all over, packing up his things, much like everyone else and going with Ron and Hermione into the hall towards the dungeons where their potions class would be when they ended up running into Cho. She smiled, eyes lighting up,

"Harry!" she said.

"Hey, Cho." Harry returned the smile, "On your way to class?"

"Yes, transfiguration." She said, indicating the books in her arms, "All the teachers are really cramming information into us now that we just finished OWLs."

"Well, it's good to know what I have to look forward to." Harry joked slightly.

They spoke a little while longer and Harry often found himself observing her expression with something akin to intrigue. Eventually though, all of them had to leave for their respective destinations.

"See ya." Cho said, walking off quickly.

Harry gave her a wave,

"Yeah…see ya."

Hermione was also looking at Harry questioningly. Why her? She couldn't help but wonder a little.

Even after getting his amnesia, Harry seemed to be drawn to Cho Chang.

He'd only just met Cho. She was a stranger to him, just like Ron and Hermione were to him. So why? Hermione wondered, feeling jealousy play in her gut.


	13. Chapter 13

**Tension is building. I enjoy writing romances, but I kind of like keeping up the air of mystery. What exactly is going on? What happened to Harry in the past? Was he really hiding his true self the entire time?**

**I do not own Harry Potter**

"Settle down." Snape said as he entered the room. Though there wasn't any need for it as they'd all gone silent the moment he'd entered the room.

He looked like he was probably a strict teacher, Harry thought to himself. Hermione had told him a bit about each professor, as much as she could. Apparently, Snape often singled him out for some reason, at least, according to her.

Snape proceeded to give them a small lecture on the upcoming OWLs before conjuring instruction sup on the board for the Draught of Living Peace.

With ten minutes left of brewing time, Snape started prowling among the students, looking over each brew for anything bad. Hermione had gotten her potion to emit a silvery mist and Harry's was looking quite close to what she had while Ron's was spewing green sparks.

Snape looked down at Harry's potion and sneered, but didn't comment outside of that. Harry's lips thinned into a line, but he said nothing.

As the three were walking down to the great hall for lunch, Hermione looked back over at Harry,

"Why Cho?" Hermione asked him curiously when no one else appeared to be listening, "Even before you lost your memories…"

Harry looked at her blankly a moment, before he seemed to find his reply,

"I can't really explain it." He admitted, "But…I got a memory back about her…I think it was when I first started liking her." His eyes grew even more distant than they already were (and they usually seemed quite distant now a days), "She's just…free." Harry said, "To be honest, I was a little bit jealous of her. She had a sort of spirit…it comes through when you talk to her, you know?"

Hermione looked thoughtful. She had to admit that she thought he had only liked Cho because she was pretty and she liked Quidditch, more of a crush, really. But it seemed to go deeper than that.

"I wish I could remember her more." Harry admitted absently.  
"What are you two talking about?" Fred interrupted.

Fred and George were right there, standing behind them. How much had they heard? Both Hermione and Harry thought.

"Harry," George began, linking his arm through Harry's. Fred did the same with his other arm.

"How about we have a bit of a talk?" they dragged him off before he could get in a word otherwise.

"Wait!" Hermione said.

"Hermione, sorry." George said, stopping her, "We need a bit of a word with Harry in private."

Hermione froze, not sure what she was supposed to do in this situation.

Harry was sat down on his bed in the Gryffindor dorms. Fred and George took out their wands, pointing them at him.

"Who are you?" Fred demanded.

"Harry knows who our investor is. You don't." George said.

"We might have passed it off as acting…"  
"But it wasn't." Fred finished.

"Couple that with you not having been acting like yourself…like Harry." George corrected.

"And you can see why we'd have reason to doubt your identity. Hermione seems to be in on it, but she's been acting weird too."

Harry swallowed hard, raising his hands to show he wasn't a threat, he looked off to the side warily. He really wasn't sure he wanted to tell the twins. Not only did they seem like huge pranksters, but they were entirely too random for him to trust, and they'd barely spoken anything save a few words at Grimmauld Place.

But, he looked up at them, they were definitely serious and if he didn't do something soon, they'd rat him out.

"My wand is on my right wrist." He moved his arm to indicate where it was, "I can prove I am who I claim to be, I just need to get into my trunk."

Both of them narrowed their eyes suspiciously at him.

"Yeah, we're not going to fall for that." George said, then lowered his sleeve and took his wand.

"I'll get whatever it is you've got in there." Fred said slowly, "You're not getting close to that trunk if there's something suspicious in there."

Harry nodded slowly,

"Fine." He decided, "At the bottom of my trunk, wrapped in a towel is a book. That's all I want to get."  
George kept his wand trained on Harry as Fred went to his trunk and unlatched it, looking through the pile of clothes until he found what Harry had told him to find.

"It's here." Fred said with a frown, unwrapping the book from the towel, "How does this prove who you are?"

"Read it." Harry said grudgingly, looking down and away from George's wand.

Fred started to read out loud,

"_August 2nd_," he paused, "That's the day the dementor's attacked."

George looked back at his brother briefly, before quickly snapping his attention back to Harry, worried he might try to disarm him. Fred continued,

"_Dementor attack on Private Drive. I woke up in my room with my cousin looking over me. I don't remember anything_," he paused again, looking horribly confused, "_but Meli says I managed to cast a patronus charm that took the form of a stag_– wait, what?" Fred asked, looking up from the book and at Harry who hadn't said a single word since he'd started reading, "What do you mean, you don't remember anything?"

"I mean," Harry said slowly, "I don't remember anything. Not my name, not my friends, not my family…if I have a family." He paused, "Nothing. I've got almost zero memories before I was attacked by dementors."

"Why keep it a secret?" George asked, though his suspicion had turned more towards wariness.

"Because this isn't normal amnesia." Harry said, clenching his teeth, "You know how dementors extract memories? Well, your soul plays a good part in memory. It's not my mind that's damaged. It's my soul. And that means that if I'm isolated for a great amount of time, I'll regress. Eventually, if I'm alone for too long, I'll even forget how to breathe. Which is why I don't want anyone to know." Harry lowered his hands, then crossed his arms over his chest, "I knew, after the attack that someone was trying to kill me. And I didn't have any memory to tell me who was trustworthy and who wasn't. So, I told no one." He took in a deep breath, "The more I interact with other people, the more I remember. I've gotten a couple memories of Hermione back, one of Ron, one of Hedwig, one of Cho and one of Remus. Hermione figured it out after a few days." Harry admitted, "Other than you two, she's the only one that knows."

George lowered his wand completely, but both Fred and George were looking at him with both confusion and fascination.

"You really don't remember anything?" Fred said slowly.

"I'm getting a few memories back. But it's slow going." Harry admitted, "I…did notice a few strange things…"

"Strange things?" George sat down next to him now, obviously wondering how he could help.

Harry swallowed hard,

"A lot of strange things, actually. Some of the things people have been telling me about my life haven't been adding up. Not really. I went to talk to the sorting hat after the feast because it looks at our memories when it sorts us, see. So, it would know what I was like up until I was sorted…and what I found out was not what I expected. I…think I did something horrible." He said this last sentence quietly, hands trembling before he crossed them on his lap. He realized they were waiting for further elaboration and explained,

"The hat said that when it sorted me that it had never seen a child that was so cold. Apparently, it originally planned on sorting me into Slytherin. Ravenclaw was also an option as well…"  
"Slytherin?" Both Fed and George asked with disbelief.

Harry nodded his head absently,

"I managed to figure out Voldemort hadn't died…and I came up with some sort of plan to defeat him. Hermione didn't know about it…and I guess you guys didn't know about it either...I kept secrets from people." He took off his glasses and handed them to Fred, "It's just glass. There's no prescription…even my relatives didn't know about that…"  
Fred put them on, his eyebrows met his hairline,

"He's right." He took them off, handing them to his brother who looked through them strangely, "Weird…this whole time you had perfect vision, then? I guess that makes sense. I mean, you always could catch sight of the snitch faster than anyone else I know."

He handed them back to Harry who put them back on his nose,

"That's about as far as I've gotten so far." He admitted with a shrug.

Fred looked thoughtful, getting up once again and moving back over to Harry's trunk. He opened it up and started taking out clothes and books and anything else that was inside.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked him, knowing he would probably be the one that would be cleaning that up later.

"Well," Fred said, "If you were hiding something, like you claim, then there might be a hint here. When I was digging for that book of yours, I thought this thing was shallower than it appeared, so maybe…" He tapped the bottom of the trunk.

Harry and George made their way over. Sure enough, the trunk really did look a bit too shallow.

"A false bottom?" George raised an eyebrow.

"Seems like…" Fred lifted the trunk slightly and reached underneath.

There was a small 'click' and the bottom of the trunk popped up slightly. Fred grinned, then lifted away the false bottom, lowering the trunk to the ground once again.

Harry's eyes widened as it was revealed what was really beneath the false bottom. A bow, strapped down so that it didn't move, and a quiver of arrows. A sword…katana, Harry thought absently, tethered to the side, and two black boxes.

"Wasn't expecting that." George commented, looking at the weapon curiously, then back at Harry, "Can you use this thing?"  
Harry nodded,

"Yeah…I kind of remember, this one memory I got back, it was about a man who saved me from a group of bullies. He taught me how to defend myself and…and how to shoot a bow but…" Harry looked at it wide eyed. He couldn't believe that had been there the entire time.

"What's this?" George asked, opening up a small, black case. Inside appeared to be some sort of book.

Harry looked at it curiously,

"A diary maybe?" he wondered.

George opened it up, then glanced up at Harry,

"It's okay if I look, right?"

Harry nodded, gesturing for him to go ahead. He opened up the book, scanning through it and frowning,

"This…bloody hell…" he trailed off, "It's not really a diary, more like a journal." He grimaced, "Looks like…you were running experiments on basilisk venom." He looked back down at the black box.

He opened it up quickly, revealing a knife and vials filled with a black substance.

"Fred, be careful." George warned him, "According to this, that's the venom. What the bloody hell were you doing, Harry?" he looked up at the amnesiac who was looking just as confused.

"It says here," George began, "The diary that was possessing our sister…this must have been back in your second year. It says that the diary or whatever was some sort of memory of Voldemort, real name: Tom Riddle. You attempted to use several spells on the diary to destroy it, but found it to be, in your words, futile, until you recalled that basilisk venom can destroy nearly anything and used that. There are notes here talking about some very dark stuff…" George scanned through it, "Dark magic, soul magic, splitting a person's soul, horcruxes…"  
"Horcruxes?" Harry's eyes widened.

George looked up at him,

"Does that mean something to you?"

"I…I don't know how I know exactly," Harry said slowly, "But horcruxes are the darkest of dark. It's a dark ritual that involves splitting the soul and placing it inside a container. The only two things that can actually destroy the container are fiend fire or basilisk venom…that's how he did it." Harry's eyes widened with realization, "By creating a horcrux, a person can essentially survive without their body. They're immortal. That's how Voldemort survived!"  
Fred and George both felt their jaws fall open and their eyes widen with horror.

"Wait…you're saying Voldemort…"  
"Created a horcrux…"  
"No." Harry shook his head, "I'm saying he created multiple horcruxes. That's why the knife and basilisk venom are there…I must have been planning on using it to destroy the containers. What else does the journal say?" Harry asked them hopefully, "Did I ever figure out how many there were?" he took the journal from George and started reading through it, he frowned slightly.

"Damn…it looks like I made a guess. Either three, five, or seven." Harry looked through it. He turned the page, before his eyes widened and he dropped the book.

"Harry? Harry, what's wrong?" Fred looked down at the book and picked it up, he froze when he saw what was written.

George looked at it too and drew in a sharp breath. It was a detailed exert on the plan Harry had put together.

"Oh god…your scar…It's a horcrux." George whispered.

"Not anymore." Harry realized, hand flying to his forehead. He lifted his bangs, revealing that the scar was nearly gone.

"How?" Fred wondered, "It says…" he didn't even want to repeat what the journal said.

"Meli." Harry breathed, "Our souls crossed. I don't know anything about fay magic, but it's possible…the magical reaction somehow…cleansed it? Or maybe it was just forced out by Meli's presence. The human body wasn't meant to hold an extra bit of soul like that, but then Meli sort of moved in and…"  
"Who's Meli?" Fred asked him in confusion.

"Well…" Harry trailed off, wondering if maybe he ought to limit things to one earth shaking revelation per day, but after a bit of pleading from both the twins, Harry relented and explained who Meli was and how their souls had been crossed, ultimately being the cause of his lack of memories.

"To be fair," Harry said slowly, "I think Meli might have just saved my life." He looked down at the book in George's hands.

The twins were silent, looking back at the journal.

"You were planning on sacrificing yourself…" Fred trailed off, looking sick.

"Well, probably." Harry relented, "But I won't know until I get my memories back. Now that the horcrux in my scar is gone, there's no need."  
Fred and George exchanged looks, obviously trying to come up with some sort of plan.

"We'll help you Harry." Fred decided.

"But on two conditions." George said seriously, holding up to fingers.

Harry stiffened, but gave a nod none-the-less.

"The first condition," Fred began, "Is that you never come up with a plan that involves sacrificing your own life again."  
Looking a bit surprised, Harry nodded, dumbly.

"The second condition," George continued, "Is that you stop keeping secrets from your friends. We want in on whatever plan you come up with."  
Harry swallowed, not sure he could fully commit to that one,

"I…don't really know who my friends are." Harry admitted, "And I don't know what I thought of anyone before losing my memories so…I can at least promise to tell those that are closest to me and let them in a little." He decided, "Is that good enough? I still don't really know what to think of Ron right now…I like Hermione a lot…I don't know about you guys yet…"  
Realizing his mistake, George decided that those were reasonable adjustments,

"Alright." He decided, "At least let Hermione in on what you're doing, and us too if you can. We weren't as close to you before, but…"  
"We're willing to be there if you need us." Fred ended his brother's sentence sincerely.

Harry nodded, looking back over at his trunk,

"Just what exactly was I doing?" he whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

**I hardly remember how much of this story I even wrote, but I'm surprised there are as many pages as there are. I could have sworn this story was shorter…Well, anyways, as you may have already guessed, Harry's old personality is starting to come out to play. But Harry is starting to grow afraid of the person he once was and that's very confusing for him.**

**I would like to thank the people reading my fanfics. I'm not sure if I've mentioned it, but I'm actually a published writer in real life. I've taken the reviews you have posted to heart and they've really helped me. Thank you.**

**Also, I'm going to update some of the chapters and try sorting out the paragraph problems. I think I've got the line breaks down now!**

**I do not own Harry Potter!**

…**..**

Harry's next class, after lunch was Defense Against the Dark Arts with Professor Umbridge.

Pink. Harry thought darkly, he hoped he never saw the color pink again. The whole room was pink and nearly everything was decorated in doylies and frills. Umbridge seemed to blend right into her seat with her fluffy pink cardigan and black, velvet bow.

After a demeaning lecture of how every question she asked them being answered with either a 'yes, Professor Umbridge,' or a 'no, Professor Umbridge' they were told to read from their textbook, no need for talking.

God, she was worse than even Snape, Harry scrunched his nose, looking down at the piece of propaganda that apparently passed as an educational textbook.

Eventually, he simply decided to take out the black journal Fred had found in his trunk and started to read, using the textbooks to write down notes and possibilities. A lot of kids wrote in their textbooks, it wasn't really that strange (though all this textbook was good for was scrap paper).

He was starting to better understand what was going on now. So, that's why he'd chosen to take divination as an elective…he had thought that to be odd, considering how little stalk he put in the practice.

"Yes, dear? Do you have a question about the chapter?"

Harry looked up to see that Hermione hadn't even opened her textbook, but had instead opted to raise her hand. Odd behaviour for her, Harry thought to himself.

"Not about the chapter, no." Hermione admitted.

Umbridge smiled in a sickly-sweet sort of way,

"Then you won't mind waiting until the end of class."  
"I have a question about your course aims." Hermione said quickly.

Harry looked up at the course aims. They looked pretty clear to him…and then it hit him.

"Oh. There's nothing about practical application." Harry said softly, but loud enough so that everyone heard.

The uproar from this sudden realization came immediately. There were moments where Harry felt she was bating him, often sending him glares or looking his direction, but Harry didn't rise to it.

"I do not wish to criticize the way things have been," Umbridge began with an irritatingly fake smile, "but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, not to mention dangerous half-breeds."

Harry raised his hand, but Umbridge pretended to ignore it.

"If you're talking about Professor Lupin," Dean Thomas interrupted angrily, "He was the best teacher we ever had."  
"Hand, Mister Thomas! As I was saying –"

"What are your qualifications in Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor?" Harry interrupted her, causing Umbridge to glare at him.

"I am a Ministry approved –"

"Your NEWT." Harry interrupted again, "Did you get it? Because I don't believe any of our defense professors ever made the mistake of a werewolf for a half-breed. If you were to look up the term in a dictionary 'half-breed' you would find it is defined as 'a derogatory term for the offspring of two parents of separate race.' Lycanthrope is not genetic and cannot be passed on from father to child or mother to child. Due to it's nature, it would be more accurate to classify it as an illness."

The class went silent, all looking at Harry who was very calm, and far more level-headed than anyone else in the room.

"I was promised a quality education when I came to Hogwarts." He continued calmly, "It seems fair, therefore to inquire, what are your qualifications? Hogwarts has always selected professors who earned an Outstanding on their Defense Against the Dark Arts NEWT."

The class all looked at Umbridge expectantly, but the woman didn't appear to be having any of it. Her face had turned red with anger,

"I met all the Ministry's qualifications before I came here as a teacher, and I do not believe it is in your place, as a student to question my authority."

Harry regarded her with a bored expression on his face,

"A king exists for his people. Without his people, there can be no king."

The strange phrase had come out of nowhere, causing the conversation to reach a near halt.

"In other words, the ruling body rules to benefit the people. If it solely focuses on benefiting its self or if it has another, hidden agenda, then it is doomed to fail. The same goes in a classroom. The students have a right to a good teacher. We are the ones paying for our education, after all. I believe people are always trying to improve, but improvement can only come when we question things and continue to question them." He said coldly, "I have every right to question things."

Hermione looked over at Harry again, noticing that his eyes had become hard and just as cold as his voice. He wasn't just talking about Umbridge's rule over the class, but the Ministry's campaign over the wizarding world. It was a thinly veiled message, and most everyone there picked up on it.

Umbridge's face became even more red. She tried to look him in the eyes, but couldn't keep the gaze for long. His eyes were too cold. At her silence, Harry pressed the point further,

"Most educators and researchers have concluded that the best way to learn is either through practical application or debate. Since you have made it blatantly clear that you do not plan on adding any practical aspect to this class, and so far, you, as a teacher are _discouraging _questions, I am beginning to wonder if this class is even worth the money you're being paid. Our money. So far all we have done is read from the book." He packed away his books and put them into his bag, "I'm not going to waste my money on a subpar teacher. I will not be attending your class. To the rest of you," his cold gaze met the rest of the class, "I don't care what you do, if you want to waste your parents' money on her, go ahead. If you want her gone, then don't bother coming. The less people actually encourage her, the more likely she is to leave. Your choice." He slung his bag over his shoulder and started walking out of the room.

Hermione got up almost as soon as he started towards the door and started packing her things. Ron saw what she was doing and realized that even if Hermione wasn't going to bother with this, then there was no reason for him to do so either. He started packing up his own things.

This set off a chain reaction as all the other students started packing away their own books and other supplies. Umbridge shouted at them all to get back in their seats, but they all ignored her. Soon, the toad of a woman was left staring at an empty classroom, cursing Harry Potter for all he was worth.

…

0000000000000

…..

News of what had happened during the fifth-year class had spread all over the school by the time supper had come and nearly everyone had agreed with what Harry was doing. By the next day, no one was attending Umbridge's classes.

After transfiguration class that day, McGonagall asked Harry to stay behind for a talk. He was led into her office and the transfiguration professor let out a wary sigh,

"Have a seat, Harry." She instructed.

Looking at the chair a moment, he sat down. McGonagall noted that his eyes didn't look as dazed as they used to. But there was a hint of steel there. She couldn't recall him ever having such a hard look like that before.

"Is there something you wanted, professor?" he asked her coldly after she had sat down.

McGonagall furrowed her brow with concern. She took out a box from her desk,

"Have a biscuit, Mister Potter."

Harry glanced at the box, then reached towards it, expressionless and took one of the biscuits, nibbling on it lightly. It was a bit dry to his taste, but it wasn't bad. He felt a certain calm overtake him and realized they must have calming draught in them. He didn't particularly care either way.

His eyes grew unfocused as he had a sudden vision of the woman in front of him turning into a cat. An animagus, he recalled. He pondered on the possibilities, when he was hit with several different memories, all about this woman. Teaching class, talking to a man called 'Lockheart,' the bumbling idiot, not believing him when he and his friends had said the philosopher's stone was in danger…He closed his eyes and took a breath. He'd been getting a lot of memories back lately…

"Mister Potter?"

Harry looked up into the professor's concerned eyes.

"Harry," she began, "Your behaviour as of late has been very…out of character."

Out of character? Harry pondered. He'd gotten several memories back already, but this woman's definition of out of character was 'in character' and vise versa. At least, from what he recalled.

"At first you were…dazed." McGonagall said worriedly, "And now…and I've been told before in Professor Umbridge's office, you've been acting…cold."

"Cold." Harry didn't say it like a question.

_I don't want to be that person again_.

His face paled and he looked down at the desk top with fear.

"Harry? Harry, are you alright?"  
Harry's attention snapped up at her and he closed his eyes, taking another cookie. He let out a sigh. Who was he? Who was he really?

Could he lie to this woman? His instincts said she'd talk to Dumbledore. But somewhere, beyond the icy walls he had built up around his heart, he new…he'd read his plans, and those plans needed to be scrapped. They no longer fit with the situation. He couldn't pretend to be someone else anymore, the 'Gryffindor Golden boy.' Not when it served a plan that had already failed. The plan to sacrifice himself…It was almost funny really. What had been the point in the end of all that anyways?

"I don't know what to say." He finally said, "I don't really want to talk about it."

"Is this about the Dursleys?" She wanted to know, concern on her face, "Sirius and Remus both think they did something to you over the summer."

Harry looked up at her, then shrugged,

"The worst I got from them this summer was being pushed down the stairs. I'll survive."

McGonagall grimaced at that bit of information,

"You won't be returning there." She said firmly, "I hope you understand that."

"Where will I be staying anyways?" Harry inquired, both to change the subject, and because he was genuinely curious.

"Sirius has said that he'd be willing to take you in. He was more than willing, actually."  
Harry nodded, figuring he would be staying at Grimmauld. It was the most well protected place they had minus the Dursleys. He was fine with that.

McGonagall let out a sigh,

"Mister Potter, might I ask what exactly you were thinking when you started a boycott against Professor Umbridge?"

Harry raised an eyebrow momentarily.

"She wants you expelled." McGonagall said slowly, "And honestly, we're having trouble keeping it all under control."

"It won't matter if she expels me or not." Harry said calmly, "The other kids will keep rebelling. She'll never have control here if she continues as she is, and since she has no true intention of changing her methods, no one holds any inclination to try. When people are oppressed, they rebel. It's only natural. Though, I have a feeling it's only a matter of time before Umbridge is gone. Now we just need to see who leaves first, her or me. The ministry will either try to replace her with another idiot, or, if Dumbledore's smart, he'll line up someone of his own choice, since this is the first time something like this has happened, people might protest the ministry's interference, seeing the results they've led to…" he looked up at McGonagall who was looking at him strangely.

"I see, you've thought this through." She commented, "And where do you plan on going if you do get expelled? If you do get your wand snapped?"

Harry looked her in the eyes,

"Then it gets snapped." Harry said.

McGonagall reeled back at Harry's lack of caring for the fact that he might never be allowed to use a wand again, or that his wand could be snapped. It made her worry, was the boy suicidal? It wasn't as though they hadn't given him reason not to be. She couldn't imagine the years of torture at the Dursleys topped with the years at Hogwarts where people kept trying to kill him.

"May I leave now?"

Sighing, the transfiguration professor dismissed him. Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and left the office without a second glance.


	15. Chapter 15

**I did write this a while ago…Pretty sure I stole some stuff from Danganronpa. Ah…younger me had some great tastes at least.**

**Okay, I do not own Harry Potter. And because there are some elements in here from Danganronpa, I don't own that either.**

"Harry…Harry!"

Harry woke up to see Meli floating over him looking wide-eyed and panicked.

"What is it?" Harry whispered.

"I think I found a horcrux." He hissed, "I've been able to feel it since we got here, but I only just found it."

Harry's eyes widened, he was definitely awake now. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and looked through his trunk, quickly looking beneath the false bottom and retrieving the basilisk venom knife and strapping it to his leg under his pyjamas, safely sheathed so as not to arouse any suspicion. He then put the false bottom back on and put on his invisibility cloak.

The two made their way into the common room, then out into the hall.

Meli led Harry towards the west end of the castle. Was it by the Ravenclaw common room? Harry wondered, thinking on what he knew about Horcruxes. Instead, Meli veered off and up one of the staircases. Harry quickly followed behind, climbing up the stairs determinedly.

Eventually, he was led up to the seventh floor, down the left corridor. Hey passed by a tapestry. Baranabas the Barmy, Harry recalled his history lesson on the man depicted. They passed back and forth three times and Harry was about to ask Meli if he really knew where he was going, when a door appeared opposite the tapestry.

"This room makes its self into whatever the person passing by it needs it to be." Meli explained, "It's also the Hogwarts lost and found."  
"Hogwarts has a lost and found?" Harry wondered puzzledly. It certainly wasn't all that efficient if no one knew about it, was it?

Harry opened up the door slowly to find a room filled to the brim with all sorts of random objects, piles and piles. It seemed to go on forever.

"Bloody hell." He whispered with awe.

He entered through the door, closing it behind him as he went inside. There were all sorts of things in the room, broomsticks, jewels, furniture…how did someone lose a couch anyways?

He decided that was a query best pondered on at a later date as he looked over at Meli,

"Where's the horcrux?" he rolled up his pyjama pants and took out his dagger.

"This way." Meli said, flying off down the somewhat clear path.

Harry wandered along cautiously. There was no telling what was in here, nor what curses some of these items might carry.

Meli finally stopped,

"It's there." He said, pointing at what looked like a tiara.

It took a moment for Harry to recognise it for what it was,

"The lost diadem of Ravenclaw." He breathed. He shook himself, immediately noticing a compulsion on the cursed object. If only he could save the thing without having to destroy it…maybe, Harry thought, if he carefully administered the venom, he could rid the thing of the curse without having to break it.

Kneeling down, he took out the dagger and focused his magic. A bead of black liquid gathered around the tip of the blade, then dripped down onto the artifact. It started to sizzle immediately. A black, wraith-like thing came flying out of the diadem.

It fled, disappearing, dissolving before it even had a chance of escape.

"It's gone." Meli let out a sigh.

Harry swallowed, sheathing the dagger and strapping it to his leg. The diadem seemed to be okay. He could sense it was still radiating magic.

Since the metal hadn't been nicked, the diadem shouldn't have been impregnated with the venom, but it was best to deliver an antidote quick.

He reached into his pyjama pocket, withdrawing the antidote of phoenix tears and dripping two tears onto the diadem, then, with a handkerchief, he wiped it down, making sure it was properly cleaned. He corked the vial and took the diadem with him out of the room and into the hall. He was definitely going to come back later.

"Thanks, Meli. I can't believe you actually found the lost diadem." Harry said excitedly, wondering what exactly he ought to do with it. It was supposed to make the wearer smarter, but he wasn't really sure he cared for that.

"What are you going to do with it?" Meli inquired curiously.

"I was just thinking about that. Honestly? I have no idea." Harry admitted as they passed down the stairs, only for Harry to see some movement out of the corner of his eye.

But it was definitely interesting. Maybe he could make a project out of studying it later. With those thoughts in mind, Harry returned to the Gryffindor dorms without anyone noticing he had been gone.

…

000000000000000

…..

Quidditch, Harry decided was a spectacular thing. He loved the rush, the thrill of it all, he loved the game whole-heartedly. It wasn't exactly the game part he enjoyed the most though, it was the flying overall. The way it cleared his head, the feeling of absolute freedom, of not being restricted. Like his problems were so small and unimportant. All there was, was him and the wind.

Ron had made the Quidditch team during tryouts, but he didn't appear to be all that confident during the game at all. It didn't help that the Slytherins seemed to zone in on him and taunt him mercilessly.

"Weasley is our king!" they shouted, causing Harry to have to resist the urge to growl.

He hated bullies. He had gotten so many memories back of being bullied himself, that it hurt and frustrated him to see people pompously being so cruel to others without any sort of consequence. It seemed clear now that the teachers weren't about to step in. All the other houses were looking at Slytherin distastefully and Harry couldn't help but thank whatever deity was up there that he hadn't been placed in Slytherin.

Ron accidentally, and clumsily knocked Katie Bell and Harry sprang into action quickly, foregoing the snitch in favour of helping her. He made it there just in time to catch Bell before she could hit the ground.

"You okay there?" Harry asked her.

"Yeah." Katie grimaced, "Thanks, Har."

"Don't mention it." Harry told her, helping her back onto her broom, "This has gone on long enough. I'm catching the snitch, that good with you?"

"Do it." Katie agreed, and Harry took off, faster than he had before, rolling passed a bludger effortlessly. The Slytherin seeker, Malfoy had seen what he was doing, but was far too late to stop his hand from shooting out and grasping the snitch in his hand.

Everyone, save for the Slytherins cheered. And then, to everyone's surprise, Harry simply dropped the thing, he looked up at the teachers, then back at the Slytherins. He took out his wand, then cast a voice amplification charm on himself,

"I never thought I could be ashamed to be a Hogwarts student, but today, I most certainly am."

That had certainly caused them all to go silent and freeze.

"What you did just now, making fun of Ron, was one of the most disgusting examples of bullying I have ever had the misfortune to witness. Shame on you. Shame on all of you. It's easy to say that it was Slytherin's fault, but they did it, because they knew they could get away with it, and that, in my opinion is even worse. The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil, is for good men to do nothing. You can justify your actions or inactions all you want, but that won't ever make what I saw today right. I am disgusted with all of you, and I'm sure there are others here that feel the same." Harry turned around and started walking out of the stadium, leaving a silent crowd behind him.

As he left for the change rooms, Katie Bell caught up with him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Harry…are you alright?"

Harry let out a sigh, shoulder's slumping a bit,

"I'm fine, just a bit frustrated. I just don't get how they can't see what they're doing is wrong."

"Bloody hell, mate." Ron came walking in, "I can't believe you called them all out like that. That was brilliant…thanks, Harry."

Harry shot him a slight smile,

"Sometimes you need to speak up, whether it's for yourself, or whether it's for someone else. Even if it's terrifying." His eyes dimmed slightly and he quickly felt the pull of a memory.

_There was so much blood. Everything was stained red. His body hurt, but it didn't matter at all anymore. Not when he was dead._

"_Sensei?" Harry whispered, eyes wide and terrified, "Ren! Ren, please wake up, please wake up…" Tears fell down his face uncontrollably._

_The man's brown eyes opened, but they were unseeing,_

"_H-Harry…li-live…and…be…ama..zing…"_

"_Ren…Ren? Ren!"_

The memory faded, but Harry's eyes remained dim,

"Bullying is what got him killed…" Spot's danced in front of his eyes, growing thicker and thicker and his vision became more black. He started to lose all sensation in his legs and he felt himself falling.

"Harry!" He heard someone scream, though he couldn't identify who before the blackness swallowed him up.

_Even if it hurts, even if the pain never goes away. I'm so happy. I got to know this amazing person. I got to meet this man who showed me there was more to life than pain and hunger. I got to meet him and I'm so happy…that's enough for me._

_A warm glow…like a smile and brown eyes looking down at him lovingly._

Harry's eyes slowly opened, dully looking up at the ceiling. He felt something wet on his cheek and realized he'd been crying in his sleep. He used his sleeve to brush away the tears, thinking back on Ren Tatsuya.

He'd died with a smile on his face. He'd wanted him to smile, to be happy. But when he'd died…it felt, in that moment that the world had ended. That was when he'd locked his heart away.

He sat up in his bed, sheets falling down his body.

"Oh, Mister Potter!"

Harry turned his head, though not in a startled manner to see Madam Pomfrey looking at him with concern.

"Are you alright? Does anything hurt?"

Harry shook his head,

"A bit of a headache." He admitted.

"What did you remember?"

Harry blinked in surprise,

"Sorry?" he said suddenly, shocked at the question. Did she know his secret?  
"From my scans, it says here that you were repressing a memory of sort, something traumatic. You reacted rather badly to it coming back." She looked at him with concern, "Do you want to talk about it?"  
Harry looked down, bringing one of his legs to his chest.

"When I was little…there was this man…He saved me from Dudley's gang. My cousin used to gang up on me with his friends and play this game called 'Harry hunting.' That's when I met Ren Tatsuya. He…he stopped them. He was the only adult that ever did anything for me, really."

Madam Pomfrey listened patiently, there was a hint of understanding in her eyes. No pity or condescension making Harry think she might have gone through a similar experience in the past.

"He ran a martial arts studio. He let me come over whenever things at the Dursleys became too…intense." Harry swallowed hard, "He called social services so many times…but it was his word against the rest of Private Drive, and my aunt enjoyed spreading rumors about me…When I was ten, Dudley had managed to rally almost all the kids in his class…I couldn't defend myself against all of them, so I ran and ran…all the way out onto the street. They were closing in on me. That was when a car turned a corner and…suddenly I was pushed out of the way but…Ren saved me. He got me out of the way but…he was hit. There was so much blood."

Madam Pomfrey's lips thinned. She knew it would be something traumatic, but she hadn't thought he'd seen someone die like that…

Harry took in a shaky breath. He understood now, what he'd been doing. His parents had died for him, Ren had died for him. Who else was going to give their life to protect his? Sirius? Hermione? Remus? Cho?

He couldn't let that happen. He felt the ice building up inside him, wrapping around his heart and dragging it behind heavy doors where no one would ever touch it.

And then he felt warmth.

Madam Pomfrey had sat herself down beside him, wrapping her arms around him.

"You lost your father too, didn't you?" Harry whispered, causing the woman to give a start.

"Mister Potter, how did you know that?"

Harry smiled slightly,  
"Oh, I have ESP."

"What?"

"Just kidding."


End file.
